George  Washington  Flowers 
Memorial  Collection 


ESTABLISHED  BY  THE 


FAMILY  OF 


COLONEL  FLOWERS 


-.-vi 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/fivefamousmissou01holl 


i 


7 


Five  Famous  Missourians 


Autlienticated  Biographical 
Sketches  of 


Samuel  L.  Clemens,  Richard  F.  Bland, 

Champ  Clark,  James  M.  Greenwood 

and  Joseph  0.  Shelby. 


BY 


WILFRED  R.  HOLLISTER  and  HARRY  NORMAN. 


With  Introdiictories  by 

Walter  Williams,  Hon.  Champ  Clark,  Hon.  Joseph  W.  Bailey, 
Professor  John  R.Kirk,  and  Mrs.  T.  J.  Henry. 


Kansas  City,  Mo.: 

Hudson-Kimberly  Publishing  Co., 

1900. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress, 
in  the  year  1899, 

Hy  WILFRED  R.  HOLLISTER  and  HARRY  NORMAN, 
In  tlie  oflice  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress, 
Washington,  D.  C. 


All  rights  reserved. 


, THE  FLOWERS  COLLECTION 


i U ' ■ 

, )->  " 7 H Y f 


PKEPAOE. 


Ill  the  i^reparation  and  publication  of  this  volume, 
the  authors  have  been  conscious  at  all  times  of 
the  difficulties  in  justly  presenting  the  life-work  and 
character  of  the  subjects  in  the  scope  of  this  work,  so 
their  aim  has  been  to  touch  chiefly  upon  the  high 
places,  so  to  speak,  and  to  present  their  subjects  in 
concise  form.  The  sketches  given  here  may,  therefore, 
be  deemed  indices  to  larger  and  more  comprehensive 
l)iograi)hies.  if  they  ever  be  written.  The  governing 
jmrpose  of  the  volume  is  to  seek  the  preservation  of 
a.  few  essential  elements  in- the  life-stories  of  five  of 
Missouri’s  famous  men. 

In  dealing  with  these  sketches,  the  authors  have 
endeavored,  so  far  as  possible,  to  be  authentic  in  all 
particulars.  In  addition  it  has  also  been  their  en- 
deavor to  utilize  all  available  new  material,  instead  of 
presenting  certain  incidents  that  hitherto  have  been 
familiar  to  the  reading  public.  The  data  relating  to  the 
subjects  has  been  furnished  the  authors  almost  entirely 
by  members  of  the  families  and  personal  friends  of  the 
subjects,  and  has  been  authenticated  by  reference  to 
them,  in  order  that  apocrvphal  matter  might  not  be 
used.  ^ 


494944 


4 


PREFACE. 


Ackjiowledgments  are  due  to  the  sul)jects,  their 
fauiilies  and  friends,  including  well-known  Eastern  and 
W estern  newsi^aper  men  and  writers,  members  of  Con- 
gi'ess  and  the  Missoni-i  Legislature,  prominent  edu- 
cators, prominent  veterans  of  the  Civil  War,  well- 
known  men  of  affairs,  and  others. 

Special  acknowledgments  are  due  to  the  press  of 
Missouri  and  sinrounding  states  for  editorial  coiirt(' 
sies  and  encouragement,  and  to  Walter  Williams,  edi 
tor  of  the  Columbia,  Mo.,  Herald,  Congressmen  Champ 
(ffark  and  Joseph  W.  Hailej,  l*rof.  John  K.  Kirk,  and 
Mrs.  T.  J.  Henry,  a close  friend  of  the  Shelby  family, 
for  their  introductories  to  these  sketches. 

Acknowledgments  are  due  the  Illustrated  Sunday 
Express,  Buffalo,  K.  Y.,  for  the  use  of  perhaps  the  best 
])hotograph  of  Mr.  Clemens  ever  published,  procured 
and  copyrighted  by  the  Express. 

In  return  for  the  favors  of  Mrs.  Bland,  and  of  Inu' 
husband  before  his  lamented  death,  the  authors  beg 
to  commend  the  readers  of  this  volume  to  Mrs.  Bland’s 
forthcoming  work  on  the  life  of  her  renowned  husband, 
which  is  written  from  a point  of  view  no  one  else  can 
ever  attain. 

If  “Five  Famous  Missourians”  succeeds  in  open- 
ing  to  abler  biographers  the  rich  fields  of  Missouri 
biography,  which  have  lain  undeveloped  for  years,  the 
authors  will  be  fully  satisfied  with  the  time  and  labor 
spent  in  compiling  and  writing  this  volume. 


SA/nUEL  L.  CLE/AENS, 

‘‘nARK  TWAIN.” 

LITTERA  IkUR. 


494944 


INTEODUCTION. 


Missouri  claims  Mark  Twain  for  its  very  own. 
True,  lie  hasn’t  been  in  the  State  for  years,  and  to  its 
residents — the  vast  majority — he  is  only  a title-page. 
Yet  the  commonwealth  writes  his  name  upon  its  roll 
of  sons  distinguished  and  watches  with  maternal  pride 
his  globe-girdling  career. 

Mark  Twain  is  not  a Missourian  simply  because  he 
was  born  in  Missouri.  That  sometimes  makes  a child 
a Missourian  and  sometimes  it  makes  him  a Democrat. 
Not  everyone  who  is  ushered  into  this  world  upon  the 
State’s  fruitful  soil  becomes  Missourian.  Occasion- 
ally one  turns  out  to  be  Mugwump.  Birth  is  indeed 
the  least  of  .the  facts  which  bolster  Mark  Twain’s  claim 
to  graduation  into  the  ranks  of  the  Alumni  of  the 
State. 

It  was  here  that  Mr.  Clemens  learned  letters  at 
school  and  letter-boxes  in  the  printing  office.  Here  he 
found  the  characters  the  world  will  longest  hold  in 
memory.  Tom  Sawyer  was  a Missouri  boy.  Huckle- 
berry Finn  started  on  his  life  of  mingled  good  and  gall 
from  a back-alley  in  Missouri.  The  old  cave  below 
Hannibal  is  still  haunted  by  recollections  of  Injun 
Joe.  The  New  Madrid  district  gave  to  the  world 
Pudd’nhead  Wilson,  with  his  thumb-print  tragedy  and 
thumb-nail  philosophy.  And  both  the  author’s  names 
_ — pen  name  and  patronymic — are  products  of  Missouri 
parentage. 


8 


INTBODVGTION. 


Possibly  had  Mr.  Clemens  been  less  worthy  of  rec- 
ognition, Missouri  would  not  have  recognized  him  so 
readily  as  a son  when  he  rose  to  speak  in  the  parlia- 
ment of  literature.  Had  Homer  been  voiceless  as  well 
as  blind,  no  seven  cities  would  have  claimed  him  theirs. 
But  the  fame  which  Mark  Twain  has  won  in  the  rich 
fields  of  humor  and  of  prose  more  serious,  the  (juaintly 
attractive  personality  of  the  man  himself,  and  more 
than  all,  his  sturdy  manfulness  in  stress  of  largest  dif- 
ficulty, have  called  to  mind  in  Missouri,  that  Mark 
Twain  really  belongs  to  the  State  which  *gave  him 
birth. 

The  humor  delicious,  the  bright  quips  and  quirks 
which  only  Mark  Twain  knows  how  to  write  down  in 
the  gray  clothes  of  print,  the  sober  fact  and  the  fiction 
which  is  truer  in  its  realism  than  the  soberest  fact,  the 
high  purpose  which  increases  as  years  strengthen  and 
soften  the  author’s  bright  style — all  combine  to  make 
Mai  k Twain  a writer  beloved.  Alike  beloved  he  is  by 
the  pecking  critics  and  by  the  common  people,  whose 
judgment  is  saner  and  whose  appreciation  is  more  to 
be  desired  than  that  of  all  the  critics  since  Cain,  the 
first,  complained. 

Mr.  Clemens  is  writing  a book  not  to  be  read  until 
a century  has  passed.  May  he  live  to  read  it  himself! 
The  sum  of  the  world’s  enjoyment  would  be  increased 
for  a hundred  years  thereby. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ANOESTKY  AXD  BOYHOOD. 

Despite  its  lack  of  sectional  conceit  and  notwith- 
standing the  assumed  literary  priority  of  other  parts  of 
the  land,  the  West  has  been  particularly  prolific  in  the 
production  of  literarw  men  conspicuous  not  only  in  their 
own  field  of  labor,  nor  in  the  province  alone  in  which 
they  lived,  but  writers  who  have  become  nationally 
and  even  internationally  great. 

Unquestionably  there  is  no  more  conspicuous  ex- 
ample, illustrative  of  this  fact,  than  the  one  found  in 
the  person  of  Samuel  Laugiiorue  Clemens,  the  distin- 
guished Missourian,  who  as  "Mark  Twain,”  the  littera- 
teur and  Immorist,  has  delighted  the  reading  public  of 
two  continents  with  his  inimitable  sketches;  his 
works  of  quaint,  whimsical  humor;  his  absorbingly 
interesting  historical  romances,  and  the  other  depart 
lueiits  of  literature  in  which  he  has  achieved  success 
and  distinction. 

In  the  literature  of  the  people  of  one  language 
there  always  stand  out  illustriously  certain  men  and 
personalities,  which  over  all  others  are  distinctive,  i)re- 
eniiuent,  and  overshadowing.  Perhaps  in  the  litera- 
ture of  the  English  language  there  are  few  names  more 
worthy  of  exaltation  to  the  high  places  in  the  list  of 


10 


FITE  FAMOUS  MTSSOORfANS. 


litterateurs  than  Mark  Twain;  and  few  pens  more 
versatile,  more  masterful  and  powerful  than  that  of 
Mark  Twain. 

Of  the  five  Missourians  whose  lives  are  herein 
sketched,  Samuel  L.  Clemens  is  the  only  native-born 
Missourian,  the  remainder  being  Missourians  by  adop- 
tion. It  should,  therefore,  be  a source  of  pride  to  Mis- 
sourians that  out  of  their  own  State  has  emanated  one 
of  the  greatest  literary  men  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

« 

Over  tliree-quarters  of  a century  ago,  in  the  town  of 
Columbia,  Kentucky,  there  lived  a beautiful  girl,  Jane 
Lampton,  who  was  admired  for  her  beauty  and  accom- 
plishments in  all  the  country  about.  Perhaps  her 
name  is  unfamiliar  to  even  the  most  erudite  of  readers, 
yet  she  deserves  to  be  remembered  as  tlie  mother  of 
America’s  distinguished  humorist,  Mark  Twain. 

As  a girl  she  was  beautiful,  with  curly  auburn  hair, 
hazel  eyes,  fair  complexion,  and  rosy  cheeks.  A former 
suitor  of  Jane  Lampton  once  said  of  her:  “She  was 

the  prettiest  girl  in  all  Columbia,  excepting,  of  course, 
my  wife,”  and  he  always  referred  to  her  as  “the  pret- 
tiest'woman  he  ‘ever  seen.’  ” 

Jane  Lampton  was  born  in  the  year  of  the  birth 
of  Abraham  Lincoln,  1809,  which  some  person  has 
called  “the  year  of  great  babies,”  and  in  the  State  of 
his  nativity,  Kentucky.  In  the  early  childhood  of 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


11 


Jane,  her  parents  removed  to  Columbia,  where  her 
girlhood  was  spent.  Her  uncle,  Lewis  Lampton,  was 
the  proprietor  of  a hotel  that  was  known  in  all  the  sur- 
rounding region  for  its  hospitality.  On  Christmas  and 
other  holidays  the  young  people  from  the  sparsely- 
settled  neighboring  counties  were  wont  to  gather  there 
for  music  and  dancing,  and  among  all  these  fair  Ken- 
tucky maidens,  Jane  Lampton  and  her  sister  were  the 
prettiest  and  most  popular. 

Jane  Lampton  had  many  admirers,  but  of  all  her 
suitors  John  Marshall  Clemens  was  the  favored  one. 
His  mother  was  Miss  Paimelia  Goggin,  of  Virginia, 
and  of  her  life  a romantic  story  is  told.  In  the  “Old 
Dominion”  two  suitors  plead  for  her  favors;  one  was 
Samuel  Clemens,  Mark  Twain’s  grandfather,  and  the 
other  was  Simon  Hancock.  For  awhile  she  received 
the  attentions  of  both,  but  eventually  she  chose  Mr. 
Clemens  and  married  him.  Of  this  union  five  children 
were  born,  John  Marshall  Clemens  being  one  of  the 
number. 

Like  many  disappointed  lovers,  Simon  Hancock  re 
solved  to  leave  the  environments  of  his  youth  and  seek 
solace  in  a new  country.  He  was  soon  in  Kentucky, 
settling  in  a portion  of  the  country  now  embraced  in 
the  county  of  Adair.  Here,  like  other  pioneers  of  “the 
Dark  and  Bloody  Ground,”  he  fought  the  cunning  In- 
dian, hunted  the  panther,  deer,  and  bear,  felled  the 
trees,  and  builded  a log  house  for  himself  alone,  as  he 


12 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


thought,  but,  as  the  sequel  proved,  another  was  to 
share  it  with  him. 

About  this  time  there  came  to  Kentucky  a brother 
of  the  woman  who  had  rejected  him  and  who  began 
clearing  for  a homestead  in  the  same  neighborhood 
where  lived  Mr.  Hancock.  Soon  thereafter  in  Virginia 
Samuel  Clemens  was  the  victim  of  an  accident,  which 
resulted  in  his  death.  “House-raisings”  were  in  vogue 
in  those  days,  and  while  participating  in  one  of  these 
events  a log  fell,  fatally  injuring  him.  When  the 
widow’s  brother  in  Kentucky  was  apprised  of  this  un- 
fortunate occurrence,  he  immediately  wrote  and  invited 
her  and  her  children  to  come  and  share  his  Western 
home.  The  widow  accepted  this  invitation,  removed 
to  Kentucky,  and  there  met  her  former  lover,  Simon 
Hancock.  To  him  she  appeared  as  handsome  as  when 
he  first  paid  homage  to  her  charms;  to  Mrs.  Clemens, 
Mr.  Hancock  appeared  more  manly  and  conrteous  than 
when  she  had  known  him  in  Virginia.  He  again  wooed 
her  and  soon  induced  her  to  become  Mrs.  Hancock. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  John  Marshall  Clemens 
came  with  his  mother  from  Virginia  to  Kentucky, 
whei'e  he  grew  into  manhood;  later  met  Jane  Lamptou 
and  was  united  in  marriage  with  her.  The  young 
couple  did  i;ot  long  reside  in  Kentucky,  but  soon  re- 
moved to  Gainesboro,  Tennessee,  where  their  oldest 
son,  Orion,  was  born.  From  Gainesboro  they  moved 
to  Fentress  County,  in  the  same  State,  where  a daugh- 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


13 


ter,  Parmelia,  was  born.  From  Sparta,  Tennessee,  the 
family  removed  to  Florida,  Missouri,  where  a son, 
Henry,  was  born. 

Also,  it  was  in  the  village  of  Florida,  Monroe  Coun- 
ty, Missouri,  a picturesque  place,  with  environments 
almost  as  Nature  created  them,  that  Samuel  Langhorne 
Clemens  was  born,  November  30,  1835.  The  village  is 
situated  upon  a high  elevation  of  land,  which  was  orig- 
inally a favorite  habitation  of  the  Mound  Builders  and 
other  aborigines,  as  numerous  mounds  in  almost  per- 
fect state  of  preservation  fully  attest. 

The  house  of  Clemens’  nativity  was  an  unpreten- 
tious two-room  log  structure,  weatherboarded  with 
black  walnut.  Ever  since  his  conspicuity  as  a writer 
the  house  was  an  object  of  great  interest  to  visitors  to 
the  community  in  which  he  was  born,  until  189T,  when 
the  structure  was  torn  down  and  a more  commodious 
and  modern  dwelling  was  erected  upon  the  site  of  his 
birthplace. 

Samuel  Clemens’  father  was  engaged  in  the  dry 
goods  business  in  Florida  immediately  after  his  arrival 
in  the  Missouri  village,  but  he  soon  decided  to  remove 
to  some  more  prosperous  community.  Of  the  life  of 
Clemens  in  Florida  necessarily  there  is  little  to  chron- 
icle, because  of  his  parents’  removal  when  he  was  just 
four  years  old.  However,  there  is  one  authenticated 
incident  connected  with  the  removal  in  which  Samuel 
figured  conspicuously.  The  little  town,  Florida,  olfered 


14 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


slight  assurances  of  sustenance  for  Judge  Clemens  and 
his  family;  consequently,  in  November,  1839,  the  father 
moved  his  family  and  household  goods  to  Hannibal, 
then  a prosperous  river  town.  Shortly  after  their  de- 
parture from  Florida,  some  one,  chancing  to  pass  the 
house  Just  vacated,  heard  a most  vociferous  wailing 
within.  Dismounting  from  his  horse,  he  pushed  open 
the  door,  entered  the  honse,  and  discovered  Samuel  sit- 
ting on  the  floor,  his  eye's  swollen  with  weeping,  and  so 
frightened  that  he  could  not  explain  the  distressing 
situation.  With  Samuel  in  his  arms,  the  man  spurred 
his  horse  onward  until  he  overtook  the  white-topped 
wagons.  When  the  mother,  whose  forgetfulness  was 
occasioned  by  assiduous  attention  to  her  sick  baby,  saw 
Samuel  in  the  neighbor’s  arms,  she  made  the  remark, 
laconically,  to  her  husband:  “Why,  Mr.  Clemens,  we 
forgot  Sammy.” 

Their  destination  reached.  Judge  Clemens  pur- 
chased a lot,  November  13, 1839,  upon  which  he  erected 
a house,  which  still  stands  intact,  and  is  a great  resort 
for  sight-seers  who  Journey  to  view  the  boyhood  home 
of  Mark  Twain.  The  house  is  a two-story  structure,  at 
that  time  the  flrst  of  its  kind  that  the  town  could 
proudly  claim,  and  stands  a few  rods  back  from  the 
high-water  mark  of  the  river.  The  town  of  Hannibal 
then  contained  only  a few  hundred  inhabitants,  the 
chief  employment  of  the  residents  being  the  manufact- 
ure of  tobacco,  which  was  grown  by  all  the  farmers  in 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


15 


the  surrounding  country.  The  chief  characteristic, 
however,  of  the  town  was  the  natural  beauty  with 
which  the  site  was  endowed.  Here,  and  in  the  country 
about,  there  were  glens,  cliffs,  and  islands,  with  caves 
that  would  be  conducive  to  the  development  of  the  im- 
agination of  any  boy  given  to  dreams  of  adventure. 
The  Mississippi  was  then  even  a wider  stream  than  it 
is  now,  for  the  cultivation  of  the  land  has,  to  some 
extent,  decreased  its  width. 

The  great  “Father  of  Waters”  at  this  period  pre- 
sented a busy  scene;  it  was  in  the  early  days  and  before 
the  railway  superseded  the  river  as  a more  rapid  means 
of  transportation  and  traffic,  and  the  surface  was  dot- 
ted here  and  there  with  steamers,  flat-boats,  rafts,  and 
all  manner  of  river  craft.  South  of  Hannibal  is  the 
cave  which  furnished  material  for  “Tom  Sawyer,”  a 
place  rich  in  natural  beauties  and  wonders.  The  scenes 
in  “Huckleberry  Finn,”  also,  were  reminiscences  of 
boyhood  haunts,  and  Tom  Sawyer’s  island  is  yet  a place 
of  interest  to  the  curious.  It  was  no  wonder  that  amid 
these  surroundings  the  youth  formed  a restless,  roving 
spirit,  and  that  most  of  his  productions  were  merely 
stories  of  his  experiences,  assisted  by  the  unlimited 
fund  of  humor  and  fertility  of  imagination  that  have 
since  made  the  name  “Mark  Twain”  famous. 

As  a youth  he  was  fond  of  adventure,  and  the 
greater  portion  of  his  time  was  spent  on  the  river,  or  in 
the  woods  with  several  companions,  some  of  whom 

—2— 


16 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


later  figured  as  cliaracters  in  bis  stories  of  life  on  the 
big  inver  and  in  Missouri.  Many  anecdotes  illustrative 
of  the  character  of  the  youth  are  told,  some  of  which 
might  be  related  with  interest,  since  his  life  in  Hanni- 
bal and  on  the  Mississippi  perhaps  had  more  than  any- 

♦ 

thing  else  to  do  with  developing  his  subsequent  varied 
and  interesting  career,  and  lent  him  the  material  for 
the  greater  part  of  his  literary  works. 

Overlooking  the  river  stands  “Lovers’  Leap,”  a mag- 
nificent projecting  bluff.  One  day  Samuel  and  a com- 
panion ascended  this  broad-faced  cliff,  and  while  con- 
templating the  great  distance  down  to  the  base,  Sam- 
uel wagered  his  companion  that  he  could  jump  from 
the  projecting  cliff  and  not  be  injured.  The  other  ac- 
cepted, Samuel  spat  upon  his  hands,  counted  three,  and 
jumped — not  down  upon  the  rocks  far  below,  but  into 
a tree  a few  feet  downward  and  to  one  side  of  the  cliff. 
He  won  the  bet. 

At  that  eai'ly  day  the  public  school  system  was  un- 
known in  Hannibal,  and  those  who  desired  an  educa- 
tion were  compelled  to  attend  a “subscription  school.” 
Young  Clemens  was  not  especially  studious  and  did  not 
court  the  favor  of  his  teachers,  consequently  their  re- 
lations were  not  harmonious  at  all  times,  but  there  was 
one  study  in  which  he  was  especially  proficient — spell- 
ing. On  Friday  afternoon,  that  part  of  the  day  was 
devoted  to  “saying  pieces”  and  to  spelling  matches, 
and  in  these  contests  Samuel,  because  of  his  proficiency 


SAMUEL  L.  GLEMEES. 


17 


iu  tlie  art,  was  invariably  chosen  leader,  until,  for  some 
inexplicable  reason,  he  could  not  spell  successfully  any 
longer  in  the  contests.  The  solution  of  the  mystery, 
however,  soon  became  apparent,  and  it  was  ascertained 
that  he  was  permitting  his  ‘'side”  to  be  defeated  in 
order  that  a fair  opponent,  with  whom  he  was  in  love, 
might  win.  By  way  of  diversion,  “singing  geography” 
was  sometimes  introduced.  Quite  frequently  Samuel 
would  forget  to  bring  his  atlas  to  school  with  him  and 
for  this  neglect  of  duty  the  teacher  would  assign  him  a 
seat  with  the  girls,  which  was  not  entirely  unagreeable 
to  the  youngster.  In  their  apparent  absorption  in  the 
work  at  hand  their  heads  would  reach  such  a close 
proximity  that  Samuel  would  forget  the  song,  a seat  on 
the  dunce-block  following  next  in  order. 

The  noon  and  recess  periods  were  eagerly  antici 
pated  both  by  Samuel  and  the  other  pupils,  for  always 
at  these  times  he  was  wont  to  give  exhibitions  of  his 
proficiency  in  mimicry  and  gymnastic  performances,  in 
both  of  which,  it  is  said,  he  was  particularly  adept. 
His  one  great  ambition  was  to  some  day  become  a per- 
former in  a circus,  which  stimulated  him  to  labor  hard 
to  perfect  himself  in  acrobatic  feats.  Mr.  Clemens’ 
splendid  physique  and  robust  health  in  later  years  is  no 
doubt  due  to  this  early  physical  training. 

Of  Mark  Twain’s  companions  and  the  youths  com- 
posing “Tom  Sawyer’s  (Clemens’)  Gang”  some  have  be- 
come of  State  and  even  national  prominence.  Sidney 


18 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MISSOURIANS. 


Haines  was  adjutant-general  of  Colorado  during 
Grant’s  administration,  George  Butler  was  United 
States  Consul  to  Egypt  during  the  administration  of 
the  same  president,  Frank  L.  Pitts  became  treasurer  of 
the  State  of  Missouri,  Robert  N.  Bodine  has  served  with 
distinction  in  Congress  as  the  representative  of  the 
second  district  of  Missouri,  while  the  remarkable  career 
of  Samuel  L.  Clemens  is  herein  related. 

One  day  at  school,  during  the  noon  period,  Samuel 
and  Sidney  Haines  were  engaged  in  playing  a game  of 
“keeps,”  which  resulted  in  a quarrel  between  the  two 
participants  because  Samuel  had  accused  Sidney  of 
“poking,”  which  was  contrary  to  the  rules  of  the  game. 
The  latter  was  grievously  offended  at  this  reflection 
upon  his  honor  and  dignity,  resenting  the  accusation 
with  a blow  upon  the  nose  of  the  future  humorist. 
Then  ensued  an  encounter  that  was  fast  and  furious,- 
until  the  teacher.  Miss  Newcomb,  appeared  upon  the 
scene  and  officiated  in  the  role  of  peacemaker.  When 
school  “took  up,”  Sidney  was  compelled  to  wear  the 
dunce-cap,  while  Samuel  was  made  to  stand  upon  a 
chair  at  his  side  as  punishment  for  the  offense.  This 
proceeding  was  not  entirely  pleasing  to  Sid,  and  ac- 
cordingly he  tore  off  the  dunce-cap,  kicked  over  the 
dunce-block,  and  imshed  Samuel  from  the  chair.  The 
latter  procedure  was  not  pleasing  to  the  teacher,  and  so 
the  boys  were  locked  in  the  wood-house,  which  was  a 
dark  cellar-like  room  under  the  church  adjoining  the 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


19 


scliool-liouse,  through  which  the  light  seldom  pene- 
trated. When  the  teacher  commanded  the  mischief- 
makers  to  enter  this  improvised  prison,  Samuel  without 
liesitation  walked  in  solemnly,  but  Sidney  did  not  move 
Avith  alacrity,  in  fact,  he  rebelled  against  her  persuad- 
ing hand,  which  angered  the  teacher;  so,  exerting  all 
her  strength,  she  endeavored  to  force  him  into  the  dark 
retreat,  but  without  avail.  ^‘You  big  boys,  come  help 
me,”  she  cried.  “I  ’ll  help  you,”  Samuel  quickly  re- 
sponded, grasping,  as  he  thought,  an  opportunity  to  win 
favor  with  his  preceptress.  Without  waiting  for  her 
assent  to  the  proposition,  he  pounced  on  Sid,  and,  as- 
sisted by  George  Butler,  despite  Sid’s  kicking  and  vo- 
ciferous wailing, they  dragged  him  into  the  wood-house, 
and  then  George  stole  out  unnoticed  by  Samuel.  Miss 
Yewcomb  quickly  closed  and  barred  the  door;  then 
ensued  such  kicking  and  shouting  that  some  of  the 
younger  pupils  began  to  cry  and  eimn  the  teacher 
turned  pale  with  fright;  then,  as  suddenly  as  the  clam- 
or began,  it  ceased  and  the  school  relapsed  into  its 
accustomed  quiet.  The  afternoon  slowly  wore  away, 
yet  not  a sound  came  from  the  wood-house;  finally  Miss 
Yewcomb  became  alarmed  at  this  inexplicable  quietude 
and  dismissed  the  school.  She  went  to  the  door  of  the 
wood-house,  unlocked  the  door,  and  said,  “Boys,  you 
may  now  come  out,”  but  no  response  came  from  within. 
Again  she  called,  this  time  with  a tone  of  mingled  anxi- 
erty  and  authority:  “Samuel,  Sidney,  you  come  out  of 


20 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


there  now,  I say.”  Still  there  came  no  answer,  and  all 
was  quiet  as  before.  Summoning  all  her  courage,  she 
entered  the  dark  and  dingy  place,  but  soon  emerged 
therefrom,  her  hair  covered  with  cobwebs,  her  hands 
stained  with  clay,  and  with  such  a frightened  counte- 
nance that  two  boys  who  were  loitering  near  started  to 
run  away.  She  called  them,  entreating  them  to  go 
within  and  ascertain  whether  the  boys  were  dead  or 
asleep.  With  reluctance  they  complied  with  her  re- 
quest, expecting  that  the  boys  would  be  found  smoth- 
ered to  death.  They  were  not  to  be  found  in  the  wood- 
house,  so,  climbing  to  the  wood-pile,  they  cautiously 
peered  over  the  high  bank  of  clay,  from  where,  through 
a crack  in  the  wall,  could  be  seen  Sam  and  Sid  lying  flat 
upon  the  ground,  gazing  through  an  aperture  in  the 
wall  at  the  people  passing  along  the  street.  When  they 
were  told  that  school  had  been  dismissed,  Sid  immedi- 
ately crawled  out,  but  Sam  declined  to  do  so,  declaring, 
“I  ’m  very  comfortable.”  To  all  their  pleadings  his  only 
reply  was,  “You  all  get  out  of  here;  I ’m  very  comfort- 
able.” Miss  Newcomb  then  climbed  upon  the  wood- 
pile  and  begged  and  threatened,  but  to  no  avail,  Sam 
meanwhile  unconcernedly  gazing  at  what  was  trans- 
piring in  the  street.  It  so  happened  that  the  school 
well-chain  had  broken  that  day,  precipitating  the 
bucket  to  the  bottom  of  the  well.  Soon  there  came  a 
man  to  reclaim  it,  and  when  appealed  to,  he  climbed  to 
the  top  of  the  wood-pile,  gazed  at  the  prostrate  boy,  and 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


21 


with  assurance  said,  “I  ’ll  fetch  him.”  And  he  did. 
Going  outside,  he  brought  in  a fishing-pole,  again 
climbed  to  the  top  of  the  wood-pile,  thrust  the  pole  over, 
“took  a twist”  in  Samuel’s  trousers,  and  drew  him  up 
as  a hunter  does  an  animal  from  its  burrow. 

The  i^laygrounds  of  this  circle  of  adventuresome 
3’ouths  were  the  hills  and  dales  receding  from  the 
cluster  of  houses  situated  along  the  banks  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi. The  tan-yard,  stone-quarry,  and  “Holliday’s 
Hill,”  which  was  then  covered  with  a dense  growth  of 
timber,  were  the  principal  seats  of  their  boyish  ex- 
ploits. “Soap  Hollow,”  though  a place  of  interest,  was 
cautiously  avoided,  because,  as  depicted  in  “Tom  Saw- 
yer,” it  was  said  to  be  haunted.  They  only  approached 
its  limits  in  the  day-time,  and  then  only  when  the  temp- 
tation to  pick  wild  grapes  and  blackberries  or  to  gather 
persimmons  in  season  presented  extra  inducements. 
Many  times  did  they  creep  stealthily  and  cautiously 
along  the  brink  to  gaze  into  its  mysterious  depths,  yet 
afraid  to  invade  its  uncanny  precincts.  Though  a con- 
siderable portion  of  their  leisure  time  was  spent  in 
these  haunts,  the  greater  portion  was  spent  on  the 
river.  Frequently  the  members  of  this  band  would 
run  away  from  school,  pilfer  a skiff,  and,  with  a sugar- 
hogshead  stave  for  an  oar,  sail  up  and  down  the  river 
and  into  its  tributaries,  creeks,  close  by.  In  all  these 
excursions  Samuel  was  the  undisputed  leader.  Sitting 
in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  he  issued  all  orders,  acting  in 


22 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MI8S0URIAES.  - 


the  capacity  of  both  captain  and  pilot,  thus  early  evinc 
ing  a desire  and  capability  for  leadership.  The  many 
exciting  escapades  recounted  in  “Tom  Sawyer”  and 
“Huckleberry  Finn”  are  but  reminiscences  of  these 
days,  reproduced  with  slight  imaginative  variation. 

The  thrilling  experiences  of  Tom  Sawyer,  Becky, 
and  Injun  Joe  in  the  cave,  so  graphically  depicted  in 
“Tom  Sawyer,”  are  founded  on  fact,  as  the  following 
authenticated  incident  will  substantiate.  At  the  time 
in  which  this  incident  occurred  the  cave  had  only  been 
open  to  visitors  a few  weeks,  it  having  been  closed  by 
order  of  its  owner,  an  eccentric  physician  of  St.  Louis, 
once  connected  with  the  earliest  established  medical 
college  in  that  city.  For  some  unexplained  reason,  he 
had  the  entrance  to  the  cave  closed,  blocking  the  mouth 
with  a stone  wall,  which  contained  a massive  door  se- 
curely fastened  by  a ponderous  lock.  Naturally  this 
uuique  proceeding  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  village,  who  desired  to  know  what  was  con- 
tained in  these  underground  chambers.  Each  subse- 
quent day  intensified  the  curiosity  of  the  people,  and  so 
one  day  a crowd  repaired  to  the  cave,  tore  down  the 
massive  door,  explored  the  winding  galleries,  and  found 
stranger  sights  than  they  had  anticipated.  The  people 
came  from  far  and  near  to  see  the  strange  and  uncanny 
object  found  in  the  “coffin-shaped  chamber,”  and  many 
were  the  stories  told  to  the  boys  about  the  cave  and  the 
little  girl  with  long  black  hair,  who  swung  from  chains 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


23 


iu  a metal  coffin,  and  the  cavern’s  silent  and  only  in- 
habitant. This  was  in  the  spring  of  1850,  when  many 
white-topped  wagons  en  route  to  the  gold  fields  were  to 
be  seen  passing  through  Hannibal,  Avhich  so  enthused 
the  youths  with  “gold  fever”  that  Samuel  Clemens  had 
already  planned  an  expedition  to  California  in  wiiich 
his  companions  should  accompany  him.  However, 
when  the  excitement  occasioned  by  the  mystery  of  the 
cave  had  reached  its  zenith,  they  deemed  it  best  to 
delay  this  venture  until  the  cave  had  been  explored. 

One  day  Samuel  called  a meeting  of  the  band. 
“Boys,”  said  he,  when  they  had  assembled,  “we  must 
visit  that  cave  right  away.  I heard  them  talking  about 
it  last  night.  Why,  they  say  that  there’s  great  long 
rocks  that  hang  down  and  shine  like  diamonds.  And 
there ’s  a spring  of  shining  water  that  turns  ever’  thing 
to  stone  that  you  throw  iu  it.  And  there ’s  a coffin  hung 
from  the  ceilin’  that ’s  got  the  purtiest  girl  ever  seen  in 
it.  It  just  sways  backwards  and  forth  and  her  hair 
grows  longer  every  day,  and  she  looks  like  she  did  when 
she  died.  Now,  I ’m  all  ready  to  go  to-morrow  morning 
if  you  all  are.” 

All  the  members  of  the  band  assented  to  this  propo 
sition,  announcing  that  they  were  ready  to  go  as  soon 
as  candles  and  other  requisites  could  be  obtained. 
When  the  articles  were  secured  under  one  pretext  or 
another,  the  band  met  at  the  place  of  rendezvous,  the 
foot  of  “Lover’s  Leap.”  The  party  was  composed  of 


24 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MIS80VRIAES. 


Bamuel  Clemens,  John  Briggs,  Barney  Farthing,  John 
Meredith,  Gulliver  Brady,  Prank  and  Tom  Pitts,  and 
Robert  Bodine.  On  their  way  to  the  cave  the  party 
met  Tom  Blankenship,  who  was  fishing  from  the  hurri- 
cane-deck of  a steaml)oat,  and  he  was  quickly  induced 
to  join  the  party. 

The  cave  reached,  the  party  sat  down  to  rest  from 
the  exertion  of  their  long,  hurried  walk.  As  they  gazed 
into  the  dark  mouth  of  the  cavern  many  would  have 
gladly  abandoned  the  expedition,  had  not  pride  and 
fear  of  taunts  from  Samuel  and  John  Briggs  prevented; 
then,  with  these  two  daring  spirits  leading,  the  band 
entered  the  cave.  For  a short  distance  the  descent 
was  made  through  a steep,  high-arched  way,  then  came 
a slightly  descending  passage,  which  they  traversed 
for  what  seemed  to  them  many  miles.  Upon  entering, 
all  the  youthful  explorers  assumed  a spirit  of  bravado 
and  utter  fearlessness,  but  as  the  band  journeyed  far- 
ther and  farther  into  the  cavern  even  the  leaders  began 
to  manifest  apprehension,  and  cast  fearful  glances 
down  the  dark  corridors.  By  the  dim  light  of  the  tal- 
tow  candles  they  penetrated  the  darkness  and  reached 
the  “petrific  spring,”  where  the  young  adventurers 
satisfied  their  thirst  and  bathed  their  heated  and 
bruised  brows,  a quaking,  exhausted  group. 

“Say,  boys,”  said  one  in  subdued,  anxious  tones, 
“suppose  we  wait  until  another  time  to  visit  the  coffin- 
shaped chamber.” 


SAMVEL  L.  GLEMEES. 


25 


All  the  party  favored  this  suggestion,  excepting 
Samuel  and  John,  who  would  not  consider  it. 

“We  ’re  in  here  now,”  said  Sam,  “and  we  might  as 
well  go  on,  and  we  must  hurry  up,  too,  for  our  candles 
are  burning  up  fast,”  and  as  he  finished  speaking  he 
started  down  the  long  passage,  the  remainder  of  the 
party  i-eluctantly  yet  meekly  following.  The  passage 
grew  narrower,  until  finally  progress  was  almost  im- 
possible, but  at  last  Samuel  triumphantly  shouted, 
“Here  she  is;  here’s  our  coftin-shaped  chamber,  where 
the  little  girl” — here  he  abruptly  ceased  speaking  and 
the  band  gathered  around  him,  looking  over  his 
shoulders  with  trepidation  to  view  the  weird  mysteries 
of  which  they  had  heard  so  much.  One  hurried  glance 
was  sufiicient,  for,  as  the  candle  cast  a flickering  glare 
over  the  dark  chamber,  they  saw  in  the  gloom  a coffin 
swaying  to  and  fro,  suspended  by  chains  from  the  ceil- 
ing, or  their  candles  held  in  trembling  hands  produced 
the  illusion. 

Tremblingly  one  said,  “Let ’s  go,”  and  the  whole 
band  beat  a precipitate  retreat.  Tumbling  over  stones, 
falling  against  the  sides  of  the  cave,  they  ran  on  and  on 
until  they  came  to  a spot  where  the  passage  divided 
into  two  similar  parallel  galleries.  Here  they  were  un- 
decided as  to  which  one  to  follow,  but  eventually  one 
was  chosen  and  the  band  proceeded  on  their  weary  jour- 
ney to  find  the  “petriflc  spring.” 


26 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Samuel  suddenly  stopped.  “Boys,”  said  lie,  “we  are 
lost  and  our  candles  are  almost  burned  up.”  Wbeu 
this  intelligence  had  been  given  out,  the  more  timid 
ones  set  up  a wail  of  despair,  their  fear  being  intensi- 
fied by  the  weird  shadows  cast  on  the  walls  by  the  flick- 
ering and  almost  consumed  candles. 

“Oh,  we’re  lost,  I know  we’re  lost!”  wailed  one  in 
dire  despair;  then,  like  an  echo  from  a hmidred 
throats,  the  cry  reverberated  down  the  long  corridors 
until  it  died  away  in  the  distant  gloom.  Many  times 
had  they  heard  their  parents  tell  of  the  man  who  was 
lost  in  this  same  cavern,  wandering  for  days,  until  at 
last,  like  Injun  Joe,  he  died  from  starvation.  With 
this  grewsome  thought  in  mind,  they  wandered  aim- 
lessly until  tired  Nature  asserted  itself^  and  the  entii-e 
party,  exhausted,  fell  asleep,  sobbing.  , 

While  thej'  slej)t  the  candles  were  consumed  and 
when  one  awoke,  absolute  darkness,  denser,  blacker, 
more  terrifying  than  his  boyish  nature  had  ever  experi- 
enced, prevailed.  A vociferous  cry  from  his  lips  awoke 
the  others,  who,  with  wails  equally  as  voluminous, 
filled  the  cave  with  their  lamentations.  Even  the  bully 
of  the  school  joined  in  the  universal  moaning,  declaring 
that  if  he  ever  went  fortli  alive,  his  future  would  be 
spent  in  rejjentance  for  past  deeds.  One,  remembering 
the  training  of  early  childhood,  prayed  with  earnest- 
ness as  he  never  prayed  before,  combining  childhood’s 
two  favorite  forms  of  supplication,  “Our  Father  which 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


27 


ai-t  in  heaven,”  “Now  I lay  me  down  to  sleep,”  the  oth- 
ers, with  bowed  heads,  joining  in  silent  supplication. 

Scarcely  was  this  brief  but  earnest  prayer  finished 
when  there  came  the  welcome  sound  of  voices,  and  the 
light  of  a dozen  torches  appeared,  carried  by  a search- 
ing party.  Weak  from  wandering  and  lack  of  food,  they 
were  carried  into  the  glad  light  outside,  where  they 
were  told  that  they  had  been  in  the  cave  thirty  hours. 

The  exj)lanation  of  the  mystery  of  the  little  dead  girl 
was  soofl  made  known  to  the  people.  In  his  profes- 
sional capacity.  Dr.  McDowell,  the  founder  of  the  Mis- 
souri Medical  College,  who  owned  the  cave,  had  ob- 
tained a corpse  from  the  institution  with  which  he  was 
connected,  and  had  put  it  in  the  cavern  to  test  the  pet- 
rifactive  qualities  of  the  water,  which  so  many  had 
claimed  for  it. 

In  “Tom  Sawyer,”  Mark  Twain  has  used  this  inci- 
dent as  capital  for  the  wanderings  of  Tom  and  Becky 
in  the  winding  galleries  of  the  cavern.  For  many  years 
t hose  who  had  visited  the  cave  asserted  that  the  author 
had  made  an  error  when  Tom  and  Becky  were  made  to 
wander  in  an  nndisco's'ered  portion  of  the  cave  where 
stalactites  and  stalagmites  abounded, for, they  asserted, 
it  was  a geological  impossibility  for  crystals  to  form  in 
that  variety  of  stone.  But  the  theories  of  sages  of  that 
science  were,  disproved  when,  in  1892,  another  branch 
of  this  caveni  was  discovered,  the  walls  of  which  spar- 
kled with  resplendence. 


28 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


For  many  years  the  cave  has  been  a popular  public 
resort.  It  was  recently  purchased  by  an  Eastern  syndi- 
cate, which  has  lighted  it  with  electricity  and  otherwise 
changed  it  from  its  former  aspect. 

In  personal  appearance  in  boyhood,  Mr.  Clemens  is 
described  as  having  been  a shaggy-headed,  freckled- 
faced  youth  with  but  one  attractive  feature — the  bright 
eyes  that  twinkled  from  beneath  the  heavy  eyebrows. 
To  add  to  this  unattractive  appearance,  his  early  play- 
mates tell  of  a drawling  form  of  speech,  which  has  been 
characteristic  of  him  in  later  years.  Because  of  his 
eccentric  disposition,  many  writers  have  said  that  Mr. 
Clemens  affected  this  peculiarity,  but  the  following- 
statement  once  made  by  his  mother  disproves  the  as- 
sertion : “I — don’t — know — what — makes — Samuel — 

talk — that — way.  Neither — his — father — nor — his — 

mother — talk — so — si  o w — or — draw  1 in  gl  y . ” 

His  hair  was  luxuriant,  bristling  in  its  nature  and 
reddish  brown  in  color,  the  exact  color  and  texture  of 
which  was  the  subject  of  much  discussion  among  the 
girls  of  Sam’s  acquaintance.  One  of  his  early  play- 
mates, Barney  Farthing,  thus  speaks  in  reference  to  Mr. 
Clemens’  hirsute  adornment:  “It  looked  more  like  the 
mane  of  a lion  in  texture  and  tangled  luxuriance  than 
anything  else;  but  more  distinctly  than  anything  else  I 
remember  on  that  subject  was  that  it  was  some  remark 
I chanced  to  make  about  its  appearance  which  occa- 
sioned our  acquaintance  and  necessitated  my  going 
home  with  a bloody  nose.” 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


29 


Saul  Clemens’  predilection  for  mischief  aud  fan 
early  manifested  itself.  Among  other  similar  stories 
one  is  told,  an  amusing  episode  that  occurred  at  a 
candy-pull  given  by  his  sister  Parmelia,  who  at  that 
time  was  a music  teacher  in  Hannibal.  One  night  after 
the  music  lesson  was  over,  the  teacher  and  pupils  par- 
ticipated in  an  old-fashioned  candy-pull.  Samuel  had 
been  early  sent  to  bed  as  a punishment  for  some  offense, 
and  was  not  permitted  to  enjoy  the  festivities  of  the  eve- 
ning. After  the  candy  was  made,  the  pans  containing 
the  confectionery  were  set  out  to  cool  on  the  back  porch 
adjoining  Samuel’s  room.  Immediately  thereafter  he 
was  awakened  by  a cat-fight  on  the  outside,  and  the 
temptation  to  witness  this  rare  treat  was  irresistible. 
So,  climbing  out  on  the  Avindow-sill  in  order  to  better 
witness  this  encounter,  he  lost  his  balance,  falling  down 
upon  the  pans  and  creating  such  a rattling  noise  that 
the  guests  rushed  out  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  com- 
motion. They  were  some  time  in  separating  young 
Clemens  from  the  sweet  mixture. 

As  hitherto  stated,  Mr.  Clemens  in  youth  was  an 
inimitable  mimic.  His  reputation  in  later  years  as  an 
excellent  story-teller  is  due  doubtless  to  a faculty  devel- 
oped from  this  impersonation  practiced  in  boyhood. 
Old  *citizens  of  Hannibal  tell  how  one  day  he  enter- 
tained a crowd  of  boys  with  a vivid  description  of  a 
fight  that  occurred  near  his  father’s  office.  Jim  Mc- 
Donald, known  as  “Fighting  Mac,”  the  village  terror. 


80 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


became  ott'ended  at  Frank  Snyder,  a prominent  citizen, 
who  had  acted  as  foreman  of  a jury  in  Judge  Clemens’ 
court,  and  had  been  instrumental  in  rendering  a decis- 
ion unfavorable  to  McDonald.  The  latter  secreted  him- 
self near  the  court-room  door,  and  when  Snyder  ap- 
peared, he  viciously  attacked  him. 

‘‘Why,”  said  Samuel  in  realistically  describing  the 
incident,  “he  looked  like  the  old  boy  himself,  when  he 
rushed  at  Snyder,  grinding  his  teeth  and  cussin’  as  he 
ran.’’  Then  the  young  narrator  instantly  assumed  an 
expression  of  fear,  impersonating  Snyder  on  the  retreat, 
meanwhile  blazing  away  at  his  assailant  with  a “pepper 
box,”  a revolver  much  in  use  at  that  time.  “Now  dad 
grabbed  a stone-cutter’s  mallet,  like  this,”  he  contin- 
ued, “and  using  both  hands,  he  hit  old  Mac  a terrible 
blow  right  in  the  middle  of  the  forehead  and  he  dropped 
like  a beef.”  - 

Many  other  stories  are  told  of  how  he  entertained 
crowds  with  descriptions  of  other  exciting  episodes  of 
pioneer  days,  but  this  incident  will  suffice  tO'  illustrate 
this  youthful  characteristic  and  explain  what  underlies 
his  later  proficiency  in  the  art  of  story-telling. 

He  was  popular  with  but  few  of  his  teachers,  which 
unpoi)ularity  was  occasioned  by  his  early  predilection 
to  get  into  trouble  and  hhs  mischievous  disposition. 
One  teacher,  an  old  maid  of  uncertain  years  and  cross 
propensities,  was  often  wont  to  thrash  him.  Therefore, 
it  was  with  satisfaction  that  a year  later  Samuel  heard 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


31 


that  she  had  married  a citizen  of  a nearby  village,  and 
a man  whom  her  friends  styled  her  inferior. 

“Humph!”  ejaculated  Samuel,  when  this  intelligence 
had  been  imparted  to  him,  “I  don’t  see  how  she  lowered 
herself  a bit  in  marr-yin’  that  triflin’  fellow.  She ’s 
nothin’  but  a spiteful  old  cat  anyway,  and  is  lucky  to 
get  anybody.” 

In  later  years  Mr.  Clemens  has  been  characterized 
by  his  indifference  to  the  observance  of  prevailing  fash- 
ions in  clothes,  but  in  youth,  it  is  said,  he  was  very  par- 
ticular about  his  ]>ersonal  appearance.  In  those  days 
no  pioneer  gentleman’s  wardrobe  was  considered  com- 
plete unless  it  contained  a pair  of  Sunday  boots  with 
bright  red  morocco  tops  and  “turn-up”  toes.  Among 
Samuel’s  many  accpiaintances  w'as  one  youth  who  pos 
sessed  the  distinguished  name  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
Boley,  but  who  soon  became  nicknamed  “Poley”  by  his 
playmates.  Poley’s  father  w^as  the  proprietor  of  a tav- 
ern in  Hannibal,  famed  in  all  the  region  about  in 
pioneer  days.  In  an  unoccupied  room  in  This  iuu  w^ere 
held  many  juvenile  circuses,  participated  in  by  Samuel 
and  other  boys  of  the  Tillage. 

One  day  Tvhen  tired  of  this  sport,  Samuel  and  Poley 
were  rummaging  for  a particular  article  in  this  old 
room,  which  was  used  as  a storeroom,  when  the  former 
espied  the  new  boots  of  the  proprietoi-. 

“Poley,”  he  exclaimed  with  animation,  “here’s  your 

pa’s  new  boots  vou  told  me  about;  ain’t  they  beauties?” 
—3— 


32 


FIVE  P AMOVE  MIEEOURIANE. 


Then  Sam  surveyed  the  foot-gear  from  all  sides  and 
questioned,  “How  much  did  they  cost,  Poley?” 

“Ten  dollars,”  the  other  replied  proudly. 

“Well,”  said  Sam,  “I ’m  going  to  have  a pair  soon ’s 
I can  raise  the  money.  And  say,”  he  continued,  “I  ’ll 
bet  you  a picayune  I can  put  them  boots  on  over  my 
shoes.” 

“I  ’ll  go  you  on  that,”  replied  Poley,  and  Sam  set 
about  the  task.  After  much  blowing,  perspiring,  and 
tugging,  he  succeeded  in  drawing  on  the  boots,  while 
Poley’s  face  took  on  a most  disconsolate  expression  at 
the  result.  Sam  proudly  surveyed  the  boots  and  prome- 
naded about  the  room. 

“I  guess  I ’d  better  take  ’em  off,”  he  said  at  last, 
“for  your  dad  might  come  in  on  us.”  But  alas!  when 
he  attempted  to  do  so,  the  boots  came  not.  “Poley,”  he 
said  despairingly,  “if  you  ’ll  help  me  to  get  ’em  off,  you 
can  keep  the  picayune  and  we  ’ll  call  it  square.”  To- 
gether they  tugged  and  twisted,  exerting  all  their  boy- 
ish strength,  but  to  no  avail.  Sam  finally  sank  back 
in  the  corner  exhausted. 

“Poley,  have  you  a knife?”  finally  he  gasped.  “Then 
take  it  and  split  them  up  the  front.” 

This  accomplished,  the  two  mischief-makers  sepa- 
rated, vowing  the  identity  of  the  perpetrators  should 
be  known  to  none  save  themselves,  and  they  kept  their 
secret.  The  tavern-keeper  made  a systematic  search 
for  the  offender,  but  the  mystery  was  never  revealed. 


8AMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


33 


About  this  time  Samuel  made  his  first  attempt  at 
orig'iual  composition  in  the  form  of  a “poem,”  commem- 
morating  the  “pieing”  of  a galley  of  type,  which  was 
published  in  the  Hannibal  Messenger,  a newspaper  now 
defunct.  The  verses  told  of  the  disconcertion  that 
reigned  in  the  printing  office  on  press-day  when  this 
dire  catastrophe  occurred. 


CHAPTER  II. 


HIS  KIVP]K  LIP^E  AND  WESTERN  LIFE,  AND 
THEIR  RELATION  TO  HIS  LITERARY 
SUCCESS. 

All  who  have  read  “Tom  Sawjei  ” and  “Huckleberry 
P^'inn,”  those  two  absorbingly-interesting  creations  deal- 
ing with  pioneer  life  along  the  Mississippi  River  and  in 
Missouri,  a half-century  ago,  can,  from  an  account  of 
his  boyhood,  discern  that  these  books  were  Init  remi- 
niscences of  those  days,  reproduced  Avilh  imaginative 
variation;  in  fact,  from  an  account  of  his  later  life  in 
connection  with  his  boyhood  one  can  also  discern  that 
there  is  no  period  or  particular  experience  of  his  life 
that  he  has  not  utilized  as  capital  for  some  of  his 
literary  works. 

Two  American  humorists  were  steamboatmen  in 
early  life — Samuel  Tj.  Clemens  and  Henry  Wheeler 
Shaw  (“Josh  Billings”).  The  desire  of  Clemens  to  be- 
come a steamboatman  on  the  Mississippi  River,  the  at- 
tainment of  which  resulted  in  capital  for  many  stories 
of  the  great  river,  Avas  unquestionably  the  result  of  fond 
associations  formed  in  boyhood  while  a resident  on  the 
bank  of  the  stream,  for  among  all  boys  dAvelling  in  Mis- 
sissippi River  tOAvns,  in  the  palmy  days  of  steamboat- 
ing, there  was  one  great  ambition — to  some  day  become 


SAMVEL  L.  GLEiMENS. 


35 


a steauiboatman  on  the  great  river.  True,  other  ambi- 
lions  sought  realization,  such  as  predilections  for  min- 
slrelsy,  circuses,  mining  in  the  West,  cattle-herding, 
etc.,  but  these  projects  were  only  secondary  and  short- 
lieved;  but  that  insatiable  ambition  to  become  a steam 
boatman — above  all,  a pilot — was  permanent. 

Final!}'  Sam  Clemens  could  no  longer  resist  the 
impnlse  so  prevalent  among  the  boys  of  that  period,  ^so, 
at  the  age  of  sixteen,  he  left  his  boyhood  home  in  the 
old-time  way — -‘‘ran  off,”  with  the  resolve  that  he  would 
never  return  until  he  had  mastered  the  intricacies  of 
piloling. 

This  was  in  1853.  For  some  time  he  was  unable  to 
secui'e  a berth  in  any  capacity  on  a steamboat,  and 
finally  went  back  to  his  old  occupation  of  printer,  work- 
ing in  all  the  large  Eastern  cities.  Financial  depres- 
sion soon  occasioned  his  abandoning  this  life  and  he 
returiu'd  to  the  West,  subsequently  living  in  St.  Louis, 
Muscatine,  and  Keokuk.  Again  the  fascination  the 
river  held  for  him  was  revived,  and  he  left  home  once 
more. 

He  reached  St.  Louis,  went  to  the  long  wharf,  ap- 
proac'hed  the  mates  of  the  steamers,  and  meekly  in- 
(piired  for  the  pilots,  but  received  the  accustomed 
curt  and  unsatisfactory  replies.  Nothing  disconcerted, 
Samuel  drifted  to  Cincinnati,  still  cherishing  his  pilot 
jiroject,  where  for  a short  while  he  pursued  his  tran- 
si<‘iit  vocation  as  a comitositor  in  a newspaj^er  office. 


36 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


About  this  time  the  Government  had  sent  out  an  expe- 
dition for  the  purpose  of  exploring  the  River  Amazon. 
With  the  remnant  of  his  pecuniary  possessions — 130.00 
— he  determined  to  journey  by  river  to  New  Orleans, 
where  he  could  get  a ship  for  Pana.  Accordingly  he 
took  passage  on  an  Ohio  River  steamer,  the  “Paul 
Jones,”  and  courted  the  favor  of  its  officers  in  order  to 
familiarize  himself  with  river  technicalities,  but  with 
characteristic  coolness  these  distinguished  personages 
resented  his  overtures. 

Upon  reaching  New  Orleans,  he  ascertained  thaf 
tliere  wms  no  ship  to  be  secured  to  Pana,  and  moreover 
there  would  be  none  likely  to  arrive  soon.  There  was 
but  one  alternative — he  must  return  on  an  up-bound 
steamboat,  and  as  the  “Paul  Jones”  was  about  to  leave 
for  St.  Louis,  he  again  took  passage  on  that  unpreten- 
tious craft,  and,  after  vigorous  importuning,  the  pilot 
for  a sum  of  money  consented  to  “learn”  Samuel  the 
river  from  the  Gulf  to  St.  Louis. 

Soon  the  pilot  under  whom  Samuel  was  serving  as 
a “cub”  was  transfered  to  a big  New  Orleans  packet, 
the  “Aleck  Scott.” 

This  was  in  1857.  Two  and  one-half  years  later  he 
had  completed  his  apprenticeship,  after  the  usual  adven- 
tures common  to  that  vocation,  and  was  a full-fledged 
]iilot.  About  this  time,  his  younger  brother,  Henry 
('lemons,  became  an  under-clerk  on  the  same  steamer. 
One  day  the  captain  of  the  boat  instructed  Henry  to 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


37 


tell  the  pilot  to  land  at  a certain  plantation.  This  he 
did,  but  the  pilot,  who  in  those  days  acknowledged  offi- 
cial inferiority  to  no  one,  pretended  not  to  hear  the 
order.  When  they  had  passed  the  intended  landing- 
place,  the  captain  sought  out  the  pilot  and  ventured  the 
interrog'ation  to  the  pilot,  “Did  not  Henry  tell  you  to 
land  there?”  indicating  vdth  his  finger  the  place. 

“No,”  replied  the  august  pilot  vehemently. 

Then  the  captain  questioned  Sam  concerning  the 
affair,  to  which  he  replied  that  Henry  had  done  as  he 
was  instructed.  This  so  angered  the  pilot  that  when 
Henry  appeared  in  the  pilot-house,  the  pilot  ordered 
him  out,  emi^hasizing  the  command  by  raising  his  hand 
to  hurl  aten-i)ound  lump  of  coal  at  the  clerk,  but  before 
he  could  commit  the  cowardly  deed^Samuel  hit  him  a 
terrific  blow  with  a stool,  which  knocked  the  pilot  pros- 
trate upon  the  floor.  Sam  fully  expected  that  he  would 
be  severely  punished  for  this  unpardonable  crime — 
striking  a pilot  on  duty,  but,  to  his  surprise,  the  captain 
commended  him  and  discharged  the  pilot. 

About  the  close  of  Sam’s  apprenticeship  a sad  acci- 
dent occurred  on  the  river  which  occasioned  the  death 
of  his  brother  Henry.  They  had  reached  New  Orleans 
on  one  of  their  trips  on  the  packet  on  which  both  served 
together.  The  former  had  to  remain  in  New  Orleans 
by  reason  of  a delay,  while  his  brother  went  on  up  the 
river  on  the  steamer  “Pennsylvania.”  Strange  as  it 
may  seem,  the  two  brothers,  on  the  night  before 


38 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MT8S0URIANS. 


Henry’s  departure,  in  their  conversation  drifted  to  the 
subject  of  steamboat  disasters— a subject  which  had 
probably  hitherto  been  undiscussed  by  them.  Two 
days  after  this  night,  Sam  took  passage  on  the  “A.  T. 
Lacey”  for  St.  Louis,  where  he  was  to  resume  his  steer- 
man’s  berth. 

The  second  night  out  from  New  Orleans,  news  came 
to  the  “A.  T.  Lacey”  that  the  “Pennsylvania”  had 
blown  up  near  Ship  Islaiid,  a few  miles  below  Memphis, 
and  many  lives  were  lost  in  the  catastrophe.  Later 
authentic  information  verified  the  rei)ort.  The  explo- 
sion on  the  “Pennsylvania”  occurred  on  a warm  sum- 
mer morning  in  the  early  fifties,  while  Henry  and  many 
of  the  passengers  were  asleep.  Among  those  thrown 
high  in  the  air  v as  Henry,  who,  despite  that  he  was  in- 
jured, swam  to  the  shore,  whence  he  could  see  that  the 
boat  was  on  lire.  With  the  customary  devotion  of  true 
river  men  to  their  craft  and  disposition  never  to  yield, 
even  in  the  darkest  houi’,  he  swam  back  to  the  burning 
’\'essel  to  save  those  on  board.  In  his  heroic  attempts 
lo  save  his  fellow-men,  he  forgot  his  own  injuries  and 
labored  so  bravely  and  assiduously  that  six  days  later 
he  died  from  injuries  sustained  in  his  efforts. 

For  several  years  Clemens  pursued  his  vocation  as 
pilot,  and  perhaps  he  would  yet  be  engaged  in  this  ca- 
pacity, or  in  some  other  way  closely  connected  with 
steamboatiug,  had  not  the  Civil  War  come  on,  which 
changed  the  fortunes  of  so  many  of  that  iieriod,  and 


SAMVEL  L.  GLEMENS. 


39 


commerce  was  suspended.  When  it  closed,  the  rail- 
road and  tow-hoat  had  almost  supplanted  the  steamer 
and  the  thriving  industry  of  the  river  relapsed  into 
history,  which  its  most  picturesque  participant  has  jire- 
served  for  future  generations,  in  so  doing  having- 
earned  the  title,  “the  prose  poet  of  the  Mississippi.” 

From  the  abrupt  terminus  of  his  career  as  a pilot 
one  may  discern  the  extent  that  circumstance  has  to 
do  witli  a man’s  career,  for  had  not  Clemens  been 
thrown  out  of  employment,  the  “Mark  Twain”  of  future 
years  would  never  have  been  known  or  developed,  or 
perhaps,  witli  that  executive  ca])ability  of  his,  he  might 
have  become  a battle-scarred  hero,  had  he  remained  on 
the  river  with  that  remnant  of  pilots  who  participated 
in  the  exciting,  momentous  events  that  occui-re<l  l)e- 
tween  Vicksburg  and  Port  Hudson ; but  Fate  was  kind, 
and  decreed  otherwise. 

He  joined  his  fortunes  with  tlie  Confederacy  and 
for  several  months  participated  in  several  impromptu 
skirmishes  in  Missouri.  The  ti-ansiency  of  his  soldier 
life  is  best  summed  up  in  the  humorist’s  own  words: 
“We  never  Avon  any  victories  to  sj)eak  of.  We  never 
could  get  the  enemy  to  stay  still  Avhen  we  Avanted  to 
tight;  and  Avhen  the  enemy  felt  like  lighting,  Ave  Avere 
generally  on  the  move.” 

Soldier-life  was  not  fascinating  to.  Clemens  and  he 
turned  his  face  westAvard,  and  thus  it  came  about  that 
it  was  Mark  Twain’s  good  fortune  to  have  lived  in  the 


■10 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI  AES. 


West  during  its  picturesque  days — that  is,  during  the 
movement  of  the  emigrant  train;  at  the  time  of  the 
pioneer,  trapper,  and  scout,  vi^ho  paved  the  way,  often- 
times at  the  sacrifice  of  their  own  lives,  for  the  masses 
who  later  developed  the  vast  resources  of  the  Great 
American  Desert. 

It  was  in  1861  that  Samuel  L.  Clemens  went  West, 
llis  brother,  Orion  S.  Clemens,  had  been  appointed  sec- 
i-etary  of  the  Territory  (now  State)  of  Nevada,  and 
Samuel  accompanied  him  as  his  private  secretary.  The 
inception  of  their  journey  across  the  plains  was  at  St. 
Joseph,  Missouri,  where  this  company  of  “Mizzoury  fel- 
lers,” as  their  fellow-emigrants  styled  them,  met  and 
foi  nied  their  emigrant  ti*ain.  Aside  from  what  is  re- 
corded in  “Roughing  It,”  no  particular  incident  char- 
acterized Iheir  monotonous  journey  across  the  then 
desert  empire. 

Their  destination  reached,  the  organization  of  the 
Teriltory  was  soon  consummated,  with  James  W. 
Nye  as  governor,  Orion  S.  Clemens  as  secretary,  while 
Samuel  L.  Clemens,  as  hitherto  stated,  acted  in  the 
capacity  of  secretary  to  his  brother.  This  was  about 
the  time  that  fabulous  mining  discoveries  were  made 
in  the  great  Washoe  country,  and,  in  common  with 
many  others,  Clemens  caught  the  mining  fever  and 
joined  the  turbulent  throng  that  were  eagerly  seeking 
the  precious  minerals.  After  encountering  the  many 
vicissitudes  that  accompanied  the  life  of  a pioneer 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


41 


miner,  and  fruitlessly  searching  one  year,  he  gave  up 
the  pursuit. 

Next  we  hear  of  Clemens  as  a newspaper  man  at 
"\"irginia  City,  where  his  career  in  the  world  of  letters 
began.  Here  it  was  that  the  people  of  that  region  had 
for  the  first  time  an  opportunity  of  reading  genuine 
American  humor,  in  all  of  its  daring,  extravagance,  and 
cap)riciousuess.  In  its  dash  and  breezy  \spirit  it 
breathed  the  essence  of  the  atmosphere  of  that  peifiod 
of  turmoil  and  activity.  For  three  years,  commencing 
in  1'862,  he  was  editor  of  the  Virginia  City  Enterprise, 
spending  a part  of  the  time  as  legislature  correspond- 
ent from  Carson  City.  He  signed  his  contributions 
“Mark  Twain,”  getting  the  pseudonym  from  an  old 
river  character.  Captain  Isaiah  Sellers,  the  pioneer  of 
all  Mississippi  river  pilots,  who  reported  river  news  for 
the  New  Orleans  Picayune.  Captain  Sellers  died  a 
short  while  before  Clemens  began  writing,  so  the  latter 
appropriated  the  noin  de  guerre. 

His  correspondence  from  Carson 'achieved  great 
local  fame,  and  was  of  the  greatest  interest  to  all  in 
that  region,  excepting  those  who  were  the  targets  of 
his  unerring  pen.  Nothing  like  it  had  ever  appeared 
. in  Western  newspaperdom — it  was  so  original,  so 
humorous,  so  freakish  and  fanciful,  interspersed  here 
and  there  with  the  choicest  bits  of  irony  and  satire. 

By  and  by  the  life  in  Nevmda,  with  its  accompani- 
ments of  border  brawls  and  treasure-seeker’s  fanati- 


42 


FITE  FAMOVS  MISSOURIANS. 


cism,  became  distasteful  to  tbe  bumorist,  aud  bis  no- 
madic nature  agaiu  asserted  jtself.  So,  in  1865,  be 
crossed  tbe  mountains  to  seek  employment  on  tbe 
Coast,  eventually  drifting  to  San  Francisco,  where  In* 
became  a repoider  on  tbe  Morninfi  Call. 

Of  Mr.  Clemens’  reportorial  experiences  in  San 
Francisco  several  autbenticated  and  amusing  incidents 
ai-e  told  by  bis  former  newspaper  associates,  wbicb 
serve  to  illustrate  that  tbe  work  of  a reporter  was  not 
entirely  to  liis  satisfaction. 

“AVlien  Mark  Twain  came  to  San  Francisco  in  tbe 
middle  sixties,”  said  a San  Francisco  newspaper  man, 
“be  found  employment  on  tbe  Morninfi  Call,  in  tbe  ca- 
]»acily  of  importer.  In  tbose  days  tbe  pu])er  liad  but 
one  reitorter.  It  was  tbougbt  by  tbe  management  that 
as  Mark  was  a droll  writer,  be  would  be  a first-class 
man,  and  would  put  considerable  life  into  tbe  local  de- 
partment of  tbe  paper.  It  did  not  take  tbe  manage- 
ment long,  however,  to  discover  that  IMark  Avas,  with- 
out exception,  tbe  laziest  man  Avbo  bad  ever  presented 
himself  as  a reporter  for  a neAvs[)a])er.  Still,  Mark 
could  Avi-ite  up  a good  item,  Avbeii  be  felt  in  tbe  mood, 
and  tbe  matter  bad  been  placed  Avithin  bis  easy  reach. 

“One  night  there  was  an  alarm  of  lire  from  tbe  third 
disti'ict,  in  Avhicb  tbe  Gall  office,  then  on  Commercial 
Street  near  Montgomery  Street,  A\’as  located.  In  tbose 
da.ys  there  was  no  systematic  bos^  system  as  there  is 
noAV.  iUark  Avas  in  tbe  office,  struggling  AAitb  an  ac- 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENE. 


43 


count  of  a runaway  team,  when  he  was  interrupted  by 
( reorge  E.  Barnes,  one  of  the  proprietors,  who  acted  as 
managing  editor,  and  'who,  liaTing  looked  out  of  the 
fi“ou1  window,  had  noticed  a big  l)laze.  ‘Mr.  Clemens,' 
said  Bai-nes,  ‘you  had  bettei-  go  out  and  see  what  that 
lire  is,  for  it  appears  to  be  a pretty  big  blaze.  It ’s  only 
a conjile  of  l)locks  from  here.’  Mark  looked  up,  and  in 
that  ])articnlar  drawl  which  characterized  him,  he 
asked,  ‘Say,  Barnes,  am  I supposed  to  look  after  these 
tires?’  Barnes  was  somewhat  annoyed  by  the  question, 
and  replied  rather  sharply,  ‘Why,  of  coarse,  yon  are.' 
‘All  right,  Barnes,’  drawled  Mark;  ‘I  suppose  I ’ll  have 
1o  go,  but  say,  Barnes,  does  the  office  furnish  a hack  to 
go  to  these  tii-es?’  Mark  went  to  the  lire,  bnt  not  in  a 
hack.-’ 

One  day  Clemens  was  met  by  a reporter  for  an  even- 
ing paper,  Avho  comi)la.ined  that  there  was  not  an  item 
lo  be  secured.  For  consolation,  Mark  said  to  him;  “You 
should  never  let  such  a little  thing  as  that  trouble  you. 
Let  me  give  you  a little  advice.  tVlien  you  are  hard  up 
for  items,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  draw  on  yonr  imag- 
inalion  for  facts  and  on  old  anthors  for  originality." 
He  followed  Mark’s  advice  and  Avas  soon  invited  to 
sever  his  connection  with  his  papei". 

More  than  any  dnty  on  his  detail,  Mark  disliked  the 
necessity  of  A'isiting  the  morgue.  AA'hile  he  was  not 
superstitions.,  he  did  not  like  to  view  the  cadavers, 
neither  Avas  he  on  filendly  terms  with  the  attendants. 


14 


FIVK  FAMOUS  M ISSOVKl A'NS. 


On  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit  to  the  morgue  he 
startled  the  attendants  by  asking,  “Say,  is  this  the  place 
where  stiffs  are  laid  out?”  Eeceiving  an  answer  in  the 
affirmative  with  the  admonition  that  he  onglit  to  speak 
more  respectfully  of  the  dead,  he  then  made  known 
his  business,  which  was  that  of  ascertaining  if  there 
Avere  anything  new,  in  these  words:  “Say,  what  I want 
to  know  is,  if  you  corpse-carpenters  have  picked  up  any- 
thing to-day.  If  you  have,  just  write  it  out  and  I’ll 
take  it  around  to  the  Call  office.” 

At  the  time  Clemens  was  in  Virginia  City,  the  Ter- 
ritorial  Enferprise,  or,  at  least,  someone  through  that 
paper,  was  excoriating  the  police  department  of  San 
Francisco.  So  when  Mark  came  to  San  Francisco,  the 
police  had  the  impression  that  perhaps  he  had  formed 
his  oijinion  of  the  department  from  reading  the  accounts 
in  the  Enterprise,  and  to  convince  him  that  they  were 
groundless  and  malicious,  the  officers  extended  every 
courtesy  to  him.  This  was  very  jileasing  to  Mark,“es- 
Iiecially  the  cigai  s that  they  gave  him  when  around  the 
police  office,  as  well  as  the  light  refreshments  proffered 
him.  One  of  the  most  officious  was  named  Hess,  who 
was  doorkeeper  at  the  Police  Court,  and  to  gain  Mark’s 
good  opinion  he  made  a mental  memorandum  of  what 
had  occurred  in  court,  thus  keeping  the  reporter  in 
stock  with  stories.  But  one  day  their  friendship  was 
abruptly  brought  to  a close.  It  came  about  in  this  way: 
Hess  was  affected  with  a bad  breath,  which  became 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


45 


extremely  unpleasant  to  the  reporter.  When  Hess  had 
one  day  told  Clemens  the  news  of  the  court,  Mark  said, 
“Hess,  I want  to  ask  you  a question.”  “Go  ahead,”  said 
Hess,  “for  I shall  only  be  pleased  to  answer  it  if  I. pos- 
sibly can.”  “Well,  Hess,  what  in  the  devil  has  crawled 
into  you  and  died  there?”  He  never  spoke  to  Mark 
again,  and  thereafter  told  all  the  news  to  a reporter  for 
a rival  paper. 

As  a reporter  he  was  not  successful,  and  soon  ser'- 
ered  his  connection  with  the  Call,  after  a fair  trial  of 
five  months. 

Again  Mr.  Clemens  became  a victim  of  the  “gold 
fever,”  and  once  more  tried  gold-mining,  this  time  in 
the  placers  of  Calaveras  County.  Again  he  was  unsuc- 
cessful, as  in  his  former  experiences.  Thus  ended  his 
mining  career,  for  the  latter  unsuccessful  experience 
disheartened  him  and  he  never  resumed  the  search  for 
gold. 

He  returned  to  San  Francisco  and  engaged  in  liter- 
ary work,  writing  for  the  weekly  papers,  forming  the 
acquaintance  of  many  Western  writers  of  that  period, 
notably  among  them  Bret  Harte,  the  poet  of  the  mining 
camps  and  Western  mountains.  He  became  associated 
with  that  group  of  young  writers  who  illustrated  the 
early  history  of  California,  comprising  men  who  later 
attained  more  or  less  distinction. 

His  occasional  contributions  gave  him  some  local 
reputation  as  a humorist,  but  were  not  as  popular  as 


46 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


writings  during  the  period,  that  he  belonged  to  the 
group  of  “sage-brush  writers.” 

Clemens’  desire  for  new  scenes  for  his  versatile  pen 
would  not  permit  him  to  remain  long  in  one  locality, 
so  in  1866  he  went  to  the  Hawaiian  Islands,  spending 
six  mouths  of  that  year  there.  This  experience  fur- 
nished him  with  material  for  numerous  sketches  and 
humorous  lectures,  which  he  delivered  in  California 
and  Nevada. 

His  first  lecture  was  delivered  in  Mercantile  Library 
Hall,  San  Francisco.  Lectures  were  practically  inno- 
vations to  Western  folk,  and  Mark,  anticipating  that 
his  audience  would  not  take  kindly  to  his  first  efforts, 
aliixed  some  characteristic  Clemensisms  to  his  lecture 
announcements.  At  the  top:  “Owing  to  the  fact  that 
this  will  be  my  last  lecture  in  this  city,  I have  decided 
to  reduce  the  price  of  admission  from  One  Dollar  to 
Eight  Bits.”  (As  almost  everyone  knows,  “a  bit”  was 
the  term  in  those  days  for  one-eighth  of  a dollar.)  At 
the  bottom  this  unique  statement  appeared:  “Trouble 

wi  11  begin  at  eight  o’clock  p.  m.”  Mr.  Clemens  himself, 
in  one  of  his  books,  relates  the  account  of  this,  his  first 
appearance  on  the  lecture  platform.  He  was  abashed 
lest  the  effort  should  prove  a failure  and  his  audience 
Avould  not  appreciate  the  humorous  features  of  his 
lecture.  So  he  went  to  several  of  his  most  intimate 
acquaintances  and  proposed  to  them  that  they  assist 
him  in  the  evening’s  entertainment,  to  which  they 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


47 


readily  assented.  Clemens  was  very  discriminating  in 
the  selection  of  his  abettors,  choosing  only  those  who 
possessed  that  mysterious  faculty  of  producing  a “con- 
tagious laugh.”  They  were  instructed  to  station  them- 
selves in  various  parts  of  the  room — in  the  galleries, 
balcony,  parquet,  and  boxes;  Clemens  was  to  smile  as  a 
signal,  and  his  abettors  were  to  give  vent  to  hearty 
laughter.  The  lecture  was  eminently  successful  and 
the  claque  encouraged  the  debutant  by  rousing  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  audience.  Oftentimes  these  demonstra- 
tions of  his  accomplices  were  ill-timed,  but  that  did  not 
render  them  ineffective,  for  the  remainder  of  the  audi- 
ence concluded  they  were  incapable  of  appreciating  the 
speaker’s  subtle  humor,  and,  in  order  not  to  display 
their  lack  of  proper  discernment,  they,  too,  joined  in  the 
hearty  demonstrations.  Finally  near  the  close  of  the 
lecture,  he  reached,  as  he  says,  “the  climax,”  the  coup- 
d’etat  of  the  evening,  a finely  drawn  peroration,  when 
he  paused  in  the  midst  of  his  word-painting;  the  audi- 
ence breathless  in  their  attention  to  the  speaker.  The 
ludicrous  appearance  of  some  friend  in  the  audience 
forcibly  struck  Clemens  and  he  inadvertently  smiled. 
The  aide.s-de-camp  thought  this  was  another  signal  and 
burst  into  roars  of  vigorous  laughter,  the  remainder  of 
the  audience  joining  until  the  room  rang  with  uproar- 
ious merriment. 

Mr.  Clemens  saj-s  he  was  disconcerted  because  this, 
his  first  audience,  did  not  take  him  seriously. 

^ 4— 


4S 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


At  the  completion  of  this  lecture  tour  he  returned 
to  the  East  and  published  '‘The  Jumping  Frog,  and 
Other  Sketches,”  in  1867.  Upon  the  appearance  of  this 
celebrated  tale,  “The  Jumping  Frog  of  Calaveras,” 
many  claimed  the  authorship  of  it  and  accused  Clemens 
of  plagiarism,  but  in  the  end  he  was  vindicated.  The 
legend  itself  originated  long  before  the  art  of  printing 
was  invented,  a learned  antiquarian  even  claiming  to 
have  found  in  the  literature  of  the  ancient  Greeks  the 
fundamental  part  of  the  story.  Mr.  Clemens  had  heard 
the  tale  rehearsed  around  mining  camps,  for  it  was 
then  a camp-fire  classic,  being  told  from  mouth  to 
mouth  like  the  sagas  of  the  Norselaud. 

Of  this  and  other  early  pi’oductions  we  now  hear 
but  little,  since  they  are  overshadowed  by  the  brilliancy 
of  his  later  works. 

About  this  time,  early  in  1867,  the  famous  “Quaker 
City”  excursion  was  projected,  and  Mr.  Clemens  deter- 
mined, if  possible,  to  go  on  this  trip,  which  would  un- 
doubtedly furnish  him  with  material  for  another  pub- 
lication. He  proposed  to  The  Alta  California,  a daily 
newspaper,  that  they  advance  him  a sum  needed  to  pay 
the  expenses  of  this  journey,  he  -in  return  to  write  let- 
ters to  that  publication,  gi\-ing  an  account  of  the  trip. 
The  management  was  rather  uncertain  as  to  the  ad- 
visability of  accepting  this  proposition,  as  it  was  some- 
what of  an  innovation  in  newspaper  ventures,  but 
finally  he  was  sent  away  on  his  voyage  of  pleasure  and 
profit,  too,  as  it  afterwards  proved. 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


49 


In  company  with  many  others  who  joined  this  cele- 
brated excursion,  he  sailed  on  the  steamer,  “Quaker 
City,”  which  left  New  York  June  8,  1867.  Their  itin- 
erary comprised  a stop  at  the  Azore  Islands,  Gibraltar, 
and  Morocco;  through  the  Mediterranean  to  Mar- 
seilles, thence  to  Paris  and  other  French  cities.  From 
Paris  the  route  of  the  journey  was  to  Genoa,  thence  by 
rail  to  rural  Italy,  visiting  the  cities  en  route.  Athens 
and  other  places  of  interest  in  Greece  were  seen,  as  well 
as  portions  of  Turkey  and  Southern  Russia,  returning 
to  Constantinople,  whence  they  set  sail  for  the  Holy 
Land  and  other  parts  of  Asia. 

His  letters  concerning  this  trip,  which  were  regu- 
larly sent  to  The  Alta  California,  practically  established 
his  fame  permanently.  Many  American  newspapers, 
especially  those  published  in  California,  reproduced 
them  without  regard  for  the  copyrights  of  the  author 
and  the  publisher. 

Upon  his  return  to  America,  he  found  himself  a 
celebrity,  especially  in  fields  in  which  circulated  the 
newspapers  which  published  his  correspondence.  The 
success  of  the  letters  induced  him  to  put  on  the  market 
a book  containing  these  letters  in  a revised  and  more 
substantial  form.  When  the  proprietors  of  The  Alta 
California  heard  of  this  venture,  they  were  exceedingly 
angry,  for  they  considered  them  their  private  property, 
and,  although  until  this  time  the  proprietors  of  the 
newspaper  had  not  thought  of  issuing  the  letters  in 


50 


FIYB  FAMOVB  MISSOVRIANS. 


book  form,  they  immediately  proceeded  to  issue  a cheap 
paper  edition  of  the  book  of  letters.  Mark  Twain  was 
in  the  East  at  this  time,  revising  the  letters  preparatory 
to  their  repnblication  in  a slightly  altered  form,  when 
the  intelligence  of  The  Alta  California  publishers’  in- 
tentions reached  him.  The  humorist  made  a hurried 
trip  to  San  Francisco  and  succeeded  in  convincing  the 
M’estern  publishers  of  his  rights  in  the  matter,  and 
they  abandoned  the  project  of  anticipating  him  in  the 
paper  edition.  His  publication  was  entitled  “Innocents 
Abroad,”  of  which  one  hundred  thousand  copies  w'ere 
sold  the  first  year,  180!),  and  as  many  later.  The  book’s 
popularity  was  almost  instantaneous,  and  soon  the 
author  was  in  demand  as  a lecturer  in  all  parts  of  the 
country. 

For  four  years,  beginning  with  1869,  he  lectured  in 
the  Eastern  and  the  Western  States,  and  also  contrib- 
uted to  The  Overland  Monthly,  The  Galaxy,  and  other 
magazines. 


CHAPTER  III. 


ISTU-IDOO— THIRTY  YEARS  OF  MINGLED  SUC- 
CESSES AND  MISFORTUNES. 

Ill  biographies  that  are  everywhere  perused  the 
reader  oi'tentiiues  finds  the  term  “successful,"’  but 
it  is  doubtful  if  there  has  ever  been  a character, 
forming  a subject  in  biography  or  history,  whose  career 
has  not  been  one  of  mingled  triumphs  and  defeats.  In 
the  career  of  Samuel  L.  Clemens  his  life  is  divided  into 
several  periods:  first,  those  strnggies  of  early  manhood, 
which  led  up  to  his  first  successes;  then  the  period  in 
which  he  rose  into  highest  positions  in  his  chosen  field, 
had  wealth,  fame,  and  infiuence  in  abundance;  then, 
following  the  exercise  of  the  immunities  of  success  in  a 
business  way,  came  disasters,  the  results  of  bad  invest- 
ments, misplaced  confidences,  and  unrewarded  generos- 
ity; succeeding  thereto  being  a iieriod  of  years  of  strug- 
gling against  heavy  odds;  then  an  avalanche  of  honors, 
a wave  of  fortune,  a snccession  of  successes,  until  now 
Mark  Twain  approaches  life’s  declining  years  bidding 
-fair  to  lay  down  his  life’s  work  and  activity  in  the  i*ip- 
est  season  of  his  fame. 

He  has  been  eminently  successful  in  literature,  yet, 
in  common  with  many  others,  he,  too,  has  tasted  the 
bitter  fruits  of  adversity;  but,  after  all,  the  story  of  his 


52 


FITE  F AMOVE  MI8E0VRIAH8. 


life  is  none  the  worse  for  it.  He  has  weathered  storms 
and  proven  himself  stable  at  all  times,  while  his  very 
life  itself  verifies  the  old  adage  that  “a  smooth  sea  never 
made  a skillful  mariner.” 

Another  sort  of  chronological  division  might  be 
made  in  reference  to  the  life  of  Mark  Twain:  from  his 
boyhood  to  his  marriage  there  may  be  found  conspicu- 
ously strewn  along  the  way  of  observation  the  rough 
material  out  of  which  he  made  his  masterpieces;  en- 
vironment from  the  first  part  of  this  period  to  the  latter 
part  may  be  said  truthfully  to  be  the  framework  of  his 
life,  from  these  things  issue  the  works  which  have  made 
him  famous;  of  the  balance  of  his  life'it  may  be  said, 
that  while  interspersed  with  periods  when  his  recep- 
tive mind  had  impressed  upon  it  figures  and  scenes,  to 
him  sources  of  inspiration,  on  the  whole,  viewing  the 
high  places  only,  these  latter  years  have  been  those  of 
development,  when  his  time  has  been  devoted  largely  to 
the  utilization  of  the  material  gathered  in  former  years, 
to  the  development  of  his  recollections,  so  that  from 
them  he  might  draw  pictures  of  such  vividity  and  clear- 
ness that  the  world  would  rush  after  him  to  look. 

In  February,  1870,  Samuel  L.  Clemens  married  Miss 
Olivia  Langdon,  and  took  up  his  residence  in  Buffalo, 
N.  Y.,  where  he  purchased  a third  interest  in  the  Buf- 
falo Express,  and  then  became  associated  in  the  editor- 
ship of  the  paper,  but  only  for  a few  months  in  an  active 
way.  His  anticipations  were  that  the  circulation  of  the 


SAMVEL  L.  GLEMENS. 


53 


paper  would  be  extended  by  reason  of  his  contributions 
to  its  columns,  but  the  extension  of  the  Express’  field 
was  jjrobably  not  to  the  extent  Mr.  Clemens  liad  looked 
for,  as  he  manifested  his  disappointment  in  the  venture 
by  selling  his  intei'est  to  Colonel  Selkirk. 

Of  this  brief  journalistic  exi:>erience  in  this  western 
New  York  city,  Mr.  Clemens  again  figures  as  the  subject 
of  several  anecdotes;  one  will  suffice,  however.  When 
Clemens  came  to  Buffalo,  he  was  personally  unknown  in 
the  city,  and  while  a resident  there  he  formed  few  ac- 
quaintances. Previous  to  his  coming  the  editorial  room 
of  the  paper  was  a favorite  meeting-place  of  local  poli- 
ticians; so,  one  night  after  Clemens  became  news  editor 
of  the  paper,  and  while  he  was  out  of  his  office,  a num- 
ber of  these  politicians  congregated  as  usual  at  the 
Express  editorial  office  to  hold  their  weekly  political 
symposium.  They  occupied  every  chair  in  the  room,  the 
majority  of  them  perching  their  feet  on  various  articles 
of  furniture  contained  therein. 

Presently  Editor  Clemens  appeared  at  the  threshold 
of  the  door,  paused,  and,  looking  in,  meekly  inquired: 

“Is  this  the  Express  office?” 

“Yes,  sir,”  quickly  responded  one  of  the  political 
fraternity. 

“Is  this  the  editorial  room  of  the  Buffalo  Express 
he  again  questioned. 

“Yes,  certainly,”  another  replied  with  emphasi-s. 


54 


FIYE  FAMOVii  MISSOURIANS. 


“Well,”  said  Clemens  deprecatingly,  “gentlemen,  if 
this  be  true,  then  I think  I am  entitled  to  a seat,  for  I 
thought  I was  one  of  the  editors.” 

A half-dozen  seats  were  simultaneously  vacated, 
with  the  exclamation,  “Why,  that ’s  Mark  Twain!” 
After  he  severed  his  connection  with  the  Express. 
Ml'.  Clemens  soon  settled  in  Hartford,  Connecticut, 
Avliere,  Avith  the  exception  of  time  spent  in  traveling, 
he  has  since  continuously  resided. 

In  1872,  in  company  with  his  family,  he  went  on  a 
lour  of  England  and  Scotland  and  lectured  for  a few 
Aveeks  in  London.  While  he  Avas  there  a London  pub- 
lisher issued  an  unauthorized  collection  of  his  writings 
in  four  volumes,  in  which  were  included  papers  attrib- 
uted to  him  that  he  never  wrote.  The  same  year,  there 
Avas  issued  from  the  press  of  a Hartford  publishing 
house  “Roughing  It,”  a reminiscence  of  his  Western 
experiences,  containing  sketches  of  Nevada,  Utah,  Cal- 
ifornia, and  the  Sandwich  Islands. 

After  his  stay  in  these  two  countries,  Avhich  was 
only  of  a feAV  months’  duration,  he  returned  to  Amer- 
ica, I'esuming  his  residence  in  Hartford,  Avhere,  in  col- 
laboration Avith  Charles  Dudley  Warner,  he  wrote 
“The  Gilded  Age.”  The  principal  character  in  the 
story  was  called  Colonel  Eschol  Sellers,  after  a char- 
acter in  real  life,  and  whom  the  authors  thought  dead, 
but  judge  of  their  surprise  when  the  original  of  the 
character  turned  up,  visited  Hartford,  and  demanded 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


55 


that  his  name  be  no  longer  used  in  connection  with  the 
story.  This  explains  why  in  subsequent  editions  the 
name  ‘Mulberry”  was  used  instead  of  “Eschol.” 

The  story  of  how  Mr.  Warner  and  Mr.  Clemens  came 
to  write  the  novel  is  interesting.  It  came  about  in  this 
way:  One  day  Clemens  and  AVarner  were  returning 

from  a walk  in  Hartford  in  which  they  had  discussed 
the  merits  of  the  modern  novel.  “Warner,”  said 
Clemens,  “let  us  write  a burlesque  on  the  modern 
novel.”  Mr.  AVarner  was  favorable  to  the  proposition, 
and  soon  they  were  formulating  plans  for  the  produc- 
tion of  the  story.  Their  method  of  collaboration  was 
decidedly  unique — one  author  would  write  a chapter 
one  day,  while  the  other  would  take  up  the  thread  of 
the  narrative  and  write  likewise  on  the  next  day.  AVhen 
the  manuscript  was  completed,  they  condensed  and 
revised  it  and  submitted  it  to  their  wives  for  criticism. 
“The  Gilded  Age”  was  later  dramatized  and  produced 
in  New  York  in  1874,  with  John  T.  ■Raymond  in  the 
leading  part.  Colonel  Mulberry  Sellers.  The  produc- 
tion of  the  comedy  proved  an  extraordinary  success. 

In  addition  to  the  interesting  method  of  preparing 
this  famous  novel,  there  are  many  interesting  consid- 
erations connected  with  it.  The  character  delineated 
therein.  Colonel  AIulberi*y  Sellers,  became  a pictur- 
esque feature  of  Mark  Twain’s  writing,  more  or  less 
conspicuous  for  several  years,  in  many  other  works. 
The  public  “took”  to  Colonel  Sellers,  to  make  use  of  a 


56 


FIYE  FAM 0 US  MISSO  V RIANS. 


somewhat  slangy  phrase,  and  longed  to  know  more 
about  him.  His  eccentricities  became  subjects  of  in- 
terest in  all  parts  of  the  country  where  Mark*  Twain 
was  known.  He  was  placed  with  environments  most 
Iteculiar  to  the  decade  succeeding  the  Civil  War,  an  era 
ill  America  of  political  scandals  and  commercial  specu- 
lations. Colonel  Sellers  was  given  a disposition  not 
unlike  the  many  promoters  the  world  was  then  just 
turning  away  from  in  real  life;  hence  it  seemed  as 
t hough  he  were  part  and  parcel  of  reality. 

There  is  a circumstance  connected  with  Colonel  Sel- 
lers’ development  which  serves  to  illustrate  the  fertil- 
ity of  Mark  Twain’s  reminiscences  of  his  Missouri  life 
and  surroundings.  During  the  early  part  of  his  life, 
there  lived  in  Marion  County,  Missouri,  only  a few  miles 
from  Hannibal,  an  individual  who  perhaps  partook  of 
Colonel  Sellers’  characteristics  more  than  any  other 
man  of  extraordinary  conspicuity;  from  him,  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe,  Mr.  Clemens  conceived  Mul- 
berry Sellers,  and  from  him,  there  is  little  doubt,  Clem- 
ens and  Warner  portrayed  the  character  of  the  specu- 
lative Colonel. 

Mr.  Clemens  has  frequently  stated  that  if  Mul- 
berr-y  Sellers  is  drawn  from  any  man  in  particular,  that 
man  was  William  M.  Muldrow,  the  erstwhile  founder 
of  a would-be  city — Marion  City — on  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi.  The  man  flourished  in  all  his  splendor 
and  dreamy  magnificence  about  the  time  of  Samuel  L. 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


57 


Clemens’  life  in  Hannibal.  His  deeds  were  the  talk  of 
the  United  States,  and  particularly  of  the  West,  in  the 
thirties  and  forties.  Charles  Dickens  visited  his  “city” 
at  one  time,  from  it  drawing  the  “Eden”  of  Mark  Tap- 
ley’s  and  Martin  Chuzzlewit’s  American  experiences; 
from  its  founder  and  enthusiastic  promoter,  the  unique 
and  distorted  caricature  of  General  Scadder,  through 
whom  the  great  English  novelist  “roasted”  American 
real-estate  booms  and  boomers.  Therefore,  there  is 
little  to  wonder  at  in  Clemens  selecting  Muldrow  as  the 
model  of  Mulberry  Sellers. 

Muldrow  has  an  unique  place  in  pioneer  history,  one 
shared  with  few,  for  his  character  in  detail  and  in  re- 
lief shows  out  in  greater  prominence  than  any  other 
of  that  vast  throng  known  as  “promoters,”  a sort  of 
genii  who  nourished 'in  the  days  when  pioneers  from 
the  Eastern  States  were  building  up  the  West. 

Muldrow  being  largely  the  original  of  Colonel  Sel- 
lers, the  latter  possesses  more  charm  than  ever,  and, 
typifying  the  first  “promoter”  in  fact  and  in  fiction,  de- 
serves to  live  as  a character-sketch  of  historical  value 
in  retrospective  glances  upon  the  distant  past. 

Mr.  Clemens  was  now — along  in  the  seventies — 
much  in  demand  as  a lecturer  everywhere  in  America, 
and  as  an  after-dinner  si>eaker  he  was  much  sought 
after.  His  remarks  on  the  weather  of  New  England, 
at  a dinner  in  New  York,  were  widely  published  and 
circulated,  as  well  as  a number  of  other  short  speeches, 


58 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MI880UEIANS. 


which  liave  almost  become  classics  of  their  kiud.  AH 
of  these  speeches,  the  one  on  New  England  weather  in 
Itarticular,  illustrate  his  humor  and  his  entertaining 
descriptive  powers.  As  a story-teller  and  character- 
delineator,  Mark  Twain  was  iinsnr])assed  at  this  time, 
and  has  never  been  ecpialled  or  surpassed  in  more  l e- 
cent  years,  as  age  does  not  seem  to  dim  his  talents.  In 
the  middle  seventies,  no  celebrity,  nnless  it  were  some 
noted  statesman  or  great  war  hero,  drew  snch  large 
cro^\'ds  and  received  snch  ovations  as  did  Mark  Twain. 

From  1874  to  1878  he  was  engaged  in  lectnring,  con- 
Iribnling  to  periodicals  and  preparing  the  mannscrijtt 
of  “Tom  Sawyer,”  which  was  completed  in  18T(i.  This 
book  is  a story  of  pioneer  life  in  Missouri  at  the  time 
1 he  author  was  a lad.  It  attained  almost  instant  po]m- 
larity  and  it  is  to  be  doubted  if  there  is  to-day  a more 
])Opnlai-  book  among  the  youth  of  the  land  than  “Tom 
Sawyer.” 

In  1878  Ml'.  Clemens  again  went  to  Europe,  remain- 
ing eighteen  months.  As  a i-esult  of  this  second  triji, 
“A  Tram])  Abroad”  appeared  in  1879.  This  lioolv,  like 
“Innocents  Abroad,”  deals  with  his  ex])eriences  along 
a,  foreign  journey,  interspersed  with  the  author's  char- 
acteristic humor. 

In  1883  he  concluded  to  visit  the  scenes  of  his  early 
life,  and  especially  to  travel  up  and  down  the  Missis 
sippi  Kiver,  to  once  more  traverse  its  surface  as  he  did 
in  the  halcyon  days  of  steamboating.  Twenty-one 


SAMVilL  L.  CLEIMENS. 


59 


yeai-s  aftev  lie  left  the  river,  he  came  westward,  reach- 
ing St.  Louis  one  April  day  iu  1882.  It  was  his  inten- 
tion to  travel  incognito,  in  order  that  he  might  more 
easily  gather  information  and  data  for  two  books,  “Life 
on  the  Mississippi”  and  “Huckleberry  Finn,”  that  he 
was  then  contemplating  writing.  But,  alas!  scarcely 
had  the  south-bound  steamer  gotten  well  under  way 
when  the  pilot  recognized  Mr.  Clemens  and  his  identity 
was  disclosed. 

Upon  reaching  New  Orleans,  Mr.  Clemens  met  the 
man  “whom,”  as  he  says,  “of  all  men,  I most  desired  to 
see.”  The  person  in  question  was  Horace  Bixby,  under 
whom  he  had  served  his  apprenticeship  as  a pilot. 
Bixby  was  then  (1882)  no  longer  a pilot,  but  was  the 
captain  of  the  steamer  “City  of  Baton  Eouge,”  one  of 
the  largest  boats  on  the  lower  Mississippi,  and  is  yet 
in  active  service  on  the  river.  Clemens  came  up  the 
river  with  him  on  his  return  trip. 

From  ?>t.  Louis  he  came  north,  stopping  off  a few 
days  at  Hannibal  to  visit  the  scenes  of  his  boyhood, 
which  he  had  not  seen  for  twenty-nine  years.  The  town 
was  much  changed.  Instead  of  the  little  village  of  the 
early  fifties,  he  now  found  it  a prosperous  railroad 
center,  with  shops,  factoiies,  and  immense  wholesale 
lnml)er  interests,  and  containing  a population  of  fifteen 
Ihonsand  persons.  Few  of  his  early  associates  re- 
mained, many  having  removed  to  other  States,  while  a 
goodly  number  had  passed  to  another  land. 


60 


FIYE  F AMOVE  MIE80VRIAF8. 


The  end  of  this  two-thousand-mile  journey  was  at 
St.  Paul,  whence  Mr.  Clemens  returned  to  his  home  in 
Hartford,  Connecticut. 

In  the  course  of  his  journey  up  and  down  the  Missis- 
sippi, he  met  only  a few  of  his  former  river  associates. 
Many  had  left  the  river  for  other  employment  after  the 
war  came  on,  Avhile  many  who  had  remained  had  been 
killed  at  their  post  of  duty,  during  the  exciting  times  at 
Vicksburg  and  elsewhere. 

As  a result  of  this  trip,  “Life  on  the  Mississippi,” 
dealing  with  the  past  and  present-day  aspect  of  the 
Mississippi  River,  appeared  in  1883.  There  is,  peiLaps, 
no  other  book  in  the  English  language  dealing  with  the 
same  subject  in  the  same  way.  It  commemorates  one 
of  the  most  interesting  features  in  commercial  annals 
of  America,  the  passing  of  the  days  of  the  great  packet, 
the  coming  of  the  twilight  of  rest  after  a long  day  of 
activity,  during  which  the  great  river  was  a most 
potent  artery  in  the  commerce  of  the  W est.  ■ 

“The  Adventures  of  Huckleberry  Finn,”  practically 
a sequel  to  “The  Adventures  of  Tom  Sawyer,”  was  also 
published  after  the  conclusion  of  this  trip,  it  appearing 
in  1884.  This  is  a fascinating  story,  dealing  with  the 
picturesque  phases  of  ante-bellum  life  along  the  Missis- 
sippi, opening  with  descriptions  of  life  in  that  part  of 
the  river  lying  just  north  of  St.  Louis  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles,  a country  which  partook  of  the 
characteristics  of  both  the  North  and  South,  eonstitut- 


8AMUBL  L,  GL3MEN8. 


61 


ing,  iu  fact,  the  borderland  between  slave  States  and 
the  domain  of  the  abolitionist;  while  the  story,  like  a 
panorama,  moves  down  the  river  and  displays  snap- 
shots at  towns  large  and  small  on  the  river  banks,  illus- 
trating the  inner  life  of  the  people  as  no  other  book  of 
its  kind  has  ever  done. 

The  same  year  of  his  trip  on  the  Mississippi  he 
wrote  and  published  “The  Prince  and  the  Pauper,”  one 
of  the  most  popular  of  his  works  and  of  exceptional 
value  because  of  its  rich  satirical  qualities. 

In  1885,  Mr.  Clemens  financed  the  publishing  house 
of  Charles  L.  Webster  & Company,  of  Hartford,  Con- 
necticut. From  this  publishing  house  were  issued 
many  of  his  works  in  after  years,  “Huckleberry  Finn” 
being  the  first.  In  1885  and  the  following  year,  the 
notable  “Personal  Memoirs  of  U.  S.  Grant”  were  issued 
by  that  firm.  General  Grant  before  his  death  had 
entered  into  a contract  with  the  firm  that  his  heirs 
were  to  receive  a certain  portion  of  the  profits  accruing 
from  the  sale  of  the  work. 

The  work  had  a remarkable  sale,  over  six  hundred 
thousand  copies  being  sold.  In  October,  188G,  the  prof- 
its accruing  to  the  Grant  heirs  amounted  to  $350,000, 
which  was  paid  to  them  in  two  checks  of  $200,000  and 
$150,000  respectively,  which,  without  doubt,  were  the 
largest  checks  ever  paid  for  an  author’s  production  in 
the  world. 

In  1888,  Mr.  Clemens  was  the  recipient  of  an  honor 


62 


PIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


from  Yale  University,  extended  as  a recognition  of  his 
distinguished  literary  attainments  and  prominence  in 
the  world  of  letters, — the  degree  of  M.  A.,  which  was  ^ 
conferred  upon  him  by  the  institution  in  that  year. 

In  1889,  “A  Connecticut  Yankee  at  King  Arthur’s 
Court’’  was  written.  The  book  was  widely  read  and 
commented  upon  in  America  and  in  England,  the  people 
of  the  latter  country  being  indescribably  shocked  by 
Mr.  Clemens’  lack  of  reverence  for  the  times  and  tradi- 
tions of  Chivalrous  England,  but  the  average  readers 
of  an  independent  turn  of  mind  enjoyed  Mr.  Clemens’ 
admirable  satire  upon  much-vaunted  customs  and 
personages. 

In  1893,  Mr.  Clemens  wrote  the  charming  story, 
“Pudd’nhead  Wilson,”  a work  which  was  responsible 
for  a neAV  fad  among  faddists — the  collection  of  thumb- 
prints. The  book  is  ingeniously  constructed,  and  even 
in  this  late  day  displayed  the  fertility  of  Mr.  Clemens’ 
Missouri  reminiscences,  the  scene  of  the  book  being  laid 
in  a southern  Missouri  river  town,  whose  character- 
istics were  strikingly  depicted,  the  leading  figure  be- 
ing an  eccentric  i^ersonage,  Pudd’nhead  Wilson,  whose 
chief  failing  was  the  collection  of  thumb-prints  of  peo- 
ple svho  came  within  his  observation,  a novel  thing 
wliich  the  people  of  the  staid  old  town  laughed  at  until 
l\Tlson,  who  was  a struggling  lawyer,  used  some  of  his 
collection  to  advantage  in  a problematic  murder  case, 
solving  thereby  an  intricate  mystery. 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


63 


The  origin  of  the  idea  of  taking  thumb-prints  and 
the  eTolving  of  the  unique  theory,  so  infallibly  applied 
always  that,  whatever  may  be  duplicated  in  human  na- 
ture, at  no  time  is  it  possible  to  find  two  thumbs  which 
have  exactly  the  same  sort  of  lines  and  which  make  the 
same  imjtrint,  is  mooted,  but  at  best  is  to  be  credited, 
at  least,  in  its  developed  form,  to  Mark  Twain  in  all  his 
versatile  brilliancy.  He  tells  a storj’  in  his  “Life  on  the 
Mississippi”  which,  whether  true  or  not,  is  undoubtedly 
the  source  of  the  leading  feature  of  Pudd’uhead  'Wil- 
son’s unique  personality. 

The  story  was  told  by  an  old  Clermau  to  ]\Iark  Twain 
in  Munich,  Bavaria,  early  in  the  seventies.  The  story 
was  of  a midnight  assault  upon  the  old  German’s  home 
in  Arkansas,  by  a pair  of  murderous  scoundrels,  belong- 
ing to  the  Volunteer  Army,  during  the  Civil  'War.  The 
German’s  wife  and  child  had  been  murdered  and  the 
only  clue  he  had  was  the  thuuib-i)rint  of  his  visitors  in 
blood  upon  a document  found  lying  upon  the  floor.  The 
German  said  that  he  had  been  acquainted  with  an  old 
Frenchman,  years  before,  who  had  an  idea  that  the 
print  of  a man’s  thumb  never  changed  and  was  never 
duplicated.  Painstakingly  the  old  man  searched,  witli 
the  Frenchman’s  theory  in  mind,  for  duplicates  of  the 
thumb-print,  assuming  to  be  a fortune-teller  and  secur- 
ing the  thumb-prints  of  suspects  in  the  camp  of  the 
Army.  At  last  he  found  a duplicate,  and  the  man  who 

helped  in  the  murder  of  his  famil3^ 

—5— 


(54 


FIVE  EAMOVfi  M I^HOinUAE^i. 


This  story,  sensational  and  weird  as  it  is,  undoubt- 
edly constituted  the  first  idea  Mark  Twain  had  in  mind 
when  he  wrote  “Pudd’nhead  Wilson.”  The  book  con- 
veyed a striking-  idea  to  the  public  and  was  widely 
sought  after. 

Up  to  3894,  Mr.  Clemens  was  financially  connected 
w ith  the  publishing  house  of  Webster  & Company;  but 
that  year,  owdng  to  the  fact  that  throughout  the  entire 
intervening  time  Mr.  Clemens  was  so  engaged  in  other 
wmrk  that  he  could  not  give  his  personal  supervision  to 
the  business  affairs  of  the  concern,  it  was  incapably 
conducted.  Finally,  in  1894,  it  failed  with  liabilities 
amounting  to  .|96,000  and  assets  less  than  |33,000.  Mr. 
Clemens  did  his  utmost  to  save  the  firm  from  bank- 
ruptcy, contributing  |G5,000  for  that  purpose,  but  wdth- 
out  avail.  He  previously  had  lost  a fortune  in  a type- 
setting machine,  and,  having  wasted  his  private  fortune 
in  efforts  to  save  the  publishing  house  from  ruin,  he 
now  found  himself  practically  without  financial  resour- 
ces and  encumbered  with  that  most  oppressive  burden 
—debt. 

The  fortune  which  Mr.  Clemens  lost  in  the  type-set- 
ting machine  ought  to  serve  as  a monument  to  the  aid 
he,  in  his  speculative  generosity,  gave  to  the  central 
idea  of  a most  indispensable  auxiliary  of  modern  jour- 
nalism. He  invested  ft 90,000  in  trying  to  start  the 
enterprise,  but,  when  the  machines  seemed  a failure, 
the  patent  wms  sold  and  he  lost  what  he  had  invested. 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


65 


The  story  extends  over  fully  twelve  or  fifteen  years 
of  his  life.  James  W.  Paige,  the  original  inventor  of 
the  type-setting  machine,  moved  to  Hartford,  Conn., 
from  Bridgeport,  his  former  home,  and  began  the  erec- 
tion of  a plant  to  manufacture  his  machines.  He  inter- 
ested local  men  of  means  in  his  idea,  among  others, 
Mark  Twain,  who  invested  $190,000  from  time  to  time. 
The  inventor  was  in  no  hurry  to  take  out  patents,  de- 
laying continuously,  interesting  prospective  stockhold- 
ers thereby.  He  exhibited  his  machine  at  the  World’s 
Fair  successfully  and  made  arrangements  to  have  the 
machines  manufactured  in  Chicago,  but  the  firm  of 
manufacturers  was  not  properly  equipped  and  it 
withdrew  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy.  Mark  Twain 
finally  induced  a St.  Louis  capitalist  to  invest  in  the 
scheme,  hoping  to  recover  some  of  the  money  he  had 
invested,  but  the  machine  of  Paige’s  was  too  expen- 
sively built,  so  the  patents  were  sold  to  the  Mergen- 
thaler  Company  for  $20,000.  Mr.  Clemens  never  recov- 
ered any  of  his  fortune  lost  thereby,  and  never  will,  al- 
though many  of  Paige’s  ideas,  in  which  he  invested  so 
heavily,  have  been  placed  in  use. 

Mark  Twain’s  loss  of  fortune  is  one  of  the  most 
pathetic  stories  in  the  history  of  American  literature. 
It  rivals  Sir  Walter  Scott’s  financial  ruin.  It  produced 
a widespread  sympathy,  unequalled  in  any  time.  Peo- 
ple of  every  nation,  kindred,  and  tribe  had  laughed  with 
Mark  Twain  for  fully  twentj’-five  years;  they  at  length 


6G 


FIVE  FAMOVF  M ! SSOUFI AF! F. 


had  an  o]»]ioi-i unity  to  sympathize  with  the  famous 
liumorist  and  writer,  brought  down  almost  into  tlie 
straits  of  ]>overty  by  Ids  long  sei-ies  of  financial  mlsfor- 
I lines.  He  had  carried  a double  burden,  the  type-setting 
machine  and  the  publishing  bouse,  so  bis  failure,  when 
it  came,  was  most  disastrous  and  swepit  awa}’  the  re- 
turns from  a lifetime’s  work. 

The  spectacle  which  was  jiresented  by  Clemens’ 
bankrupitcy  and  the  sympathy  with  him  proves  that 
mankind  does  not  always  forget  an  obligation,  for  every 
effort  was  made  to  repiay  him  for  the  many  hours  of 
amusement  and  edification  he  had  given  it. 

While  he  was  in  London,  bending  under  the  doubh* 
weight  of  years  and  debts,  James  Cordon  P.ennett’s 
great  paper,  the  New  York  Herald,  started  a subscrip- 
tion through  the  Herald  to  pay  Mark  Twain’s  debts.  A 
few  days  passed  and  the  sum  was  reaching  up  info  thou- 
sands, when  Mr.  Clemens  cabled  his  refusal  of  their 
generous  overture  of  financial  aid.  He  expiressed  his 
heart.y  apipreciatton  of  the  sympathy  and  esteem  of  his 
countrymen,  but  desired,  he  said,  to  pay  his  own  debts, 
if  possible. 

And  he  did.  Soon  his  pien  was  at  work  on  a manu- 
script, which,  coupled  with  the  jiroceeds  of  a lectui'e 
tour  of  file  world,  pjaid  the  debts.  The  world  once  more 
applauded  the  humorist  for  again  proving  his  excep- 
tional honor. 

The  beginning  of  this  lecture  tour  was  at  Paris, 
where  he  and  his  family  had  been  living  for  nearly  two 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


67 


years.  They  sailed  for  America,  where  all  preparations 
for  this  feat  of  “following  the  equator”  began.  As  a 
l esult  of  this  trip,  the  book,  “Following  the  Equator,” 
was  written  in  1895  and  189G;  the  proceeds  accruing,  to- 
g(dher  with  the  profits  from  lectures  delivered  en  route, 
] aid  the  last  of  his  debts. 

“The  Personal  Kecollections  of  Joan  of  Arc,”  a book 
written  and  published  the  year  of  the  failure  of  the 
publishing  firm,  is  feigned  to  be  the  translation  of  a 
memoir  left  unpublished  by  her  private  secretary.  By 
many  it  is  considered  the  most  serious  and  imaginative 
work  that  Mark  Twain  has  ever  written. 

In  June,  1897,  Mark  Twain  was  in  London.  At  the 
Queen’s  jubilee,  held  in  the  English  metropolis,  he 
acted  as  correspondent  for  the  New  York  Journal,  and 
.:Vmerican  readers  once  more  were  afforded  the  pleasure 
of  reading  his  whimsical  humor,  interspersed  with 
graphic  descriptions  of  this  joyful  commemoration  held 
on  the  sixtieth  anniversary  of  the  Queen’s  reign.  In  a 
subtle,  iconoclastic  manner,  Clemens  treated  his  subject, 
as  did  he  in  “Innocents  Abroad.”  Even  the  titled  and 
the  noble  did  not  escape  the  unerring  i)en  of  this  thor- 
ough American,  and,  regardless  of  rank,  Twain’s  pen 
sought  them  out  for  contusion  with  his  quill,  so  accus- 
tomed to  satire  at  nobility. 

Few  men  attain  universal  distinction;  in  fact,  to  day 
there  are  not  probably  over  a dozen  living  personalities 
whose  fame  is  world-wide,  Exeeptiug  some  gve;q 


68 


FIVE  F AMOVE  1MISEOVRIAN8. 


naval  or  army  hero,  Mark  Twain’s  name  is  perhaps 
more  familiar  to  the  reading  world  than  any  other. 
Naturally  he  has  become  cosmopolitan  in  his  speech 
and  habits,  but  withal  is  a typical  representative  of 
America  and  its  institutions,  his  residence  abroad  not 
having  changed  in  the  least  the  disposition  of  this 
droll,  unassuming  American.  He  has  ever  been  popu- 
lar in  Continental  Europe,  since  his  first  visit  abroad 
in  1867.  Since  that  memorable  first  visit  to  Europe, 
his  reputation  and  popularity  has  been  steadily  increas- 
ing, until  it  may  be  very  properly  said  that  no  Amer- 
ican author,  since  the  time  of  Irving  and  Cooper, 
has  achieved  a popularity  commensurate  with  Mark 
Twain’s. 

Many  of  the  leading  orders  of  merit  on  the  Conti- 
nent have  solicited  his  membership  and  he  has  become 
a member  of  some  of  the  societies.  One  day  a reporter 
asked  him  if  he  were  not  a member  of  a certain  order. 
“Yes,”  he  answered  with  a sigh;  “few  escape  it.” 

The  years  1897,  ’98,  ’99  have  been  spent  by  Mark 
Twain  and  his  family  in  England,  Switzerland,  and 
jVustria,  where  he  is  almost  as  popular  as  in  the  coun- 
try of  his  nativity.  No  important  society  function  is 
considered  complete  without  his  presence  to  enliven 
the  occasion  with  his  choicest  bits  of  genuine  American 
humor.  Many  times  has  Mark  Twain  been  in  attend- 
ance at  prominent  social  functions  where  he  was  the 
only  titleless  guest  present.  While  popular  in  all  the 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


69 


leading  countries  of  Europe,  he  is  probably  best  known 
in  Germany.  Since  the  inhabitants  of  that  country 
read  “Innocents  Abroad,”  all  Germany  has  searched 
eagerly  for  any  facts  relating  to  the  life  of  the  humor- 
ist. The  importance  that  stories  of  his  early  life  at- 
tached to  Missouri  induced  many  to  believe  that  Mis- 
souri is  the  capital  of  “The  States.” 

When  he  returns  from  this  trip  abroad,  American 
readers  expect  another  powerful  novel  from  his  pen, 
although  Mr.  Clemens  has  not  stated  that  this  res- 
idence in  Europe  was  for  the  purpose  of  gathering  ma- 
terial for  another  volume,  but,  judging  by  precedent, 
we  may  expect  a new  work  from  his  pen,  for  hitherto 
he  has  utilized  the  experiences  of  every  locality  in 
which  he  has  remained  for  any  considerable  period  of 
time. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  future  achievements  of 
Mark  Twain,  the  world  is  already  satisfied  with  his  life- 
work,  yet  hopes  that  Time  ma.}'  grant  him  many  more 
years  of  usefulness.  Missourians,  especially,  should 
be  proud  of  his  achievements,  for  out  of  their  own  com- 
monwealth’s borders  has  emanated  the  greatest  humor- 
ist of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  a novelist  occupying 
a high  place  in  the  lists  of  litterateurs;  a native  of  their 
own  State  who  has  been  successively  a printer,  pilot, 
miner,  editor,  author,  humorist,  and  tourist;  until  at 
last  his  name  has  become  a household  word  in  nearly 
all  the  civilized  countries  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


MARK  TWAIN’S  PERSONALITY  AND 
LIFE-WORK. 

The  persouality  of  Mark  is  unique  and  decidedly 
original,  for  it  contains  many  characteristics  giving 
him  a distinction  of  person  unlike  that  of  any  other 
celebrity.  He  has  been  aptly  styled  “the  funniest  man 
in  America,”  and  naturally  the  personality  of  a pei*son 
holding  such  a peculiar  position  is  attractive;  but 
humor  is  but  a small  portion  of  his  mental  make-up,  for 
if  he  possessed  that  faculty  alone,  the  world  would 
not  have  manifested  the  great  interest  in  his  life  and 
achievements  that  it  has.  One  has  but  to  look  at  his 
portrait  to  realize  that  he  is  more  than  a humorist  of 
the  ordinary  school.  Any  likeness  of  Mark  Twain  pre- 
sents a strong  face,  evincing  determination,  energy, 
and  ])Owei‘;  a face  with  broad  brow,  and  eyes  that  seem 
to  peneti-ate  one's  very  thoughts,  so  keen  and  piercing 
are  they  in  appearance.  His  countenance  and  features 
are  those  of  a statesman,  and  peculiarly  American — 
even  his  eyes  and  nose  are  strongly  suggestive  of  the 
eyes  and  beak  of  the  American  eagle. 

A celebrated  English  writer  once  expressed  himself 
as  being  convinced  that  in  Samuel  L.  Clemens  America 
]iad  lost  one  of  her  greatest  statesmen;  had  he  been 


SAMUEL  L.  GLEMEyS. 


born  earlier  and  Lad  the  storm-center  of  politics  been 
whirling  some  farther  westward,  perhaps  we  to-day 
would  be  reverencing  President  Samuel  Clemens  as  the 
personality  who  guided  our  country  through  the  dark 
days  of  1861-65,  and  Abraham  Lincoln  might  have  been 
known  only  as  an  inimitable  story-teller.  However, 
Mr.  Clemens  never  engaged  himself  in  politics,  except 
very  briefly  while  he  was  editor  of  the  l^irginia  City 
Enterprise;  nevertheless  it  is  quite  conceivable  that  the 
Englishman's  estimate  of  the  sti-ength  of  his  character 
is  not  overdrawn. 

Eccentricity  is  often  a consjticuous  characteristic  of 
men  of  genius,  and  of  Mark  Twain  many  stories  are 
told  illustrating  his  idiosyncrasies.  Some  may  be  ]>rop- 
erly  related,  for  certain  of  these  peculiarities  have  ever 
characterized  him. 

One  morning  in  the  early  autumn,  several  years  ago, 
]\Iark  Twain  compelled  his  manager  to  keep  his  con- 
tract to  the  letter  in  a novel  way.  In  order  to  reach  a 
certain  city,  where  Mark  was  to  lecture,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  the  party  to  arise  at  halt-past  three  on  this  par- 
ticular cool  morning  in  order  to  take  the  four  o’clock 
train.  When  Mark,  his  wife,  his  daughter.  Miss  Clara, 
and  Major  Pond,  his  manager,  reached  the  station,  they 
were  very  much  chagrined  to  read  on  the  bulletin,  ‘‘Pa- 
cific Mail  one  hour  and  twenty  minutes  late.”  Mark 
eventually  became  impatient  and  said,  “Pond,  you  have 
contracted  that  I shall  travel,  therefore  you  must  carry 


72 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


out  your  agreement.”  And,  despite  the  entreaties  and 
remonstrances  of  Mrs.  Clemens  and  Miss  Clara,  he  sat 
down  in  a wheelbarrow,  and  Major  Pond  pushed  him 
ui>  and  down  the  platform  until  the  train  arrived. 

Perhaps  the  most  unique  letter  ever  received  by  the 
Agricultural  Department,  at  Washington,  was  written 
by  this  droll  and  eccentric  humorist.  It  was  while  J. 
Sterling  Morton  was  Secretary  of  Agriculture  that  he 
received  this  peculiar  letter: 

'"Dear  Sir, — Your  petitioner,  Mark  Twain,  a poor 
farmer  of  Connecticut — indeed,  the  poorest  one  there 
in  the  opinion  of  envy — desires  a few  choice  breeds  of 
seed  corn  (maize),  and  in  return  will  support  the  Ad- 
ministration in  all  ways,  honorable  and  otherwise. 

“To  speak  by  the  card,  I want  these  things  to  cari’y 
1o  Italy  to  an  English  lady.  She  is  a neighbor  of  mine 
outside  of  Florence,  and  has  a great  garden  and  thinks 
slie  could  raise  corn  for  her  table  if  she  had  the  right 
ammunition.  I myself  feel  a warm  interest  in  this 
enterprise,  both  on  patriotic  grounds  and  because  I 
have  a.  key  to  that  garden  which  I got  from  a wax  im- 
pression. It  is  not  very  good  soil,  still  I think  she  can 
l aise  enough  for  one  table,  and  I am  in  a position  to 
select  the  table. 

“If  you  are  willing  to  abet  a countryman  (and  Gil- 
der thinks  you  are),  please  find  the  signature  and  ad- 
dress of  your  petitioner  below. 

“Respectfully  and  truly  yours,  Marh  Twain. 

“P.  S. — A handful  of  choice  (Southern)  watermelon 
seeds  would  pleasantly  add  to  that  lady’s  employment 
and  give  my  table  a corresponding  lift.” 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


73 


Secretary  Morton,  of  course,  appreciated  tkis  keen 
satire  on  tke  seed-distributing  function  of  tbe  Depart- 
ment, but  sent  tbe  seeds. 

Another  letter  written  by  Mr.  Clemens  to  Washing- 
ton also  had  the  desired  effect.  Just  after  Cleveland's 
second  inauguration,  Clemens  walked  into  the  United 
States  consulate  at  Frankfort,  Germany.  There  he 
found  Captain  IMason,  the  consul,  getting  ready  to 
depart  for  America. 

“Why,  what  occasions  this  procedure?'’  asked  Mark. 

“A  new  President  has  been  inaugurated,”  was  the 
reply,  “and  as  I am  a Republican,  of  course  a Democrat 
will  take  my  x^lace.” 

“You  wait  until  we  see  about  this  matter.”  And 
forthwith  Mr.  Clemens  went  to  his  hotel  and  wrote  the 
following  letter  to  Ruth  Cleveland: 

“il/y  dear  Ruth, — I belong  to  the  Mugwumps,  and 
one  of  the  most  sacred  rules  of  our  order  prevents  us 
from  asking  favors  of  officials  or  recommending  men 
to  office,  but  there  is  no  harm  in  writing  a friendly 
letter  to  you  and  telling  you  that  an  infernal  outrage  is 
about  to  be  committed  by  your  father  in  turning  out  of 
office  the  best  consul  I know  (and  I know  a great  many), 
just  because  he  is  a Republican  and  a Democrat  wants 
his  place. 

“I  can’t  send  any  message  to  the  President,  but  the 
next  time  you  have  a talk  with  him  concerning  such 
matters  I wish  you  would  tell  him  about  Captain 
IMason  and  what  I thinlv  of  a Government  that  so  treats 
its  efflciemt  officials.” 


74 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURfANS. 


Several  weeks  later  Mr.  Clemens  was  the  recipient 
of  a letter  i)tirportinj;'  to  have  been  written  by  “Baby 
Until,''  in  which  it  was  stated  that  tlie  President  was 
vei-y  thankful  for  such  information,  and  that  Cajilain 
INfason  would  be  retained  in  the  hh-ankfoi-t  consnlatic 

Mr.  Clemens  has  an  intense  dislike  for  clothes;  in 
fact,  it  is  said  that  the  greater  part  of  his  manuscripts 
are  prepared  while  the  humorist  is  in  bed,  and  if  it  were 
not  for  ]\[rs.  Clemens,  he  would  probably  a])]»ear  at  im- 
portant social  functions  in  his  pajamas,  which  he  wears 
almost  all  of  the  time.  M’hen  on  a lecture  tom-,  he 
would  wear  his  sleeping-clothes  all  day,  only  discard- 
ing them  in  time  to  ajipear  at  the  appointed  ]dace  for 
his  lectiiri*.  Several  limes  news])aper  men  have  inter- 
viewed him  in  bed.  a]uo]H)s  of  winch  another  story  is 
bdd. 

On  the  tri])  in  which  he  was  engaged  in  gathering 
material  for  his  book  “Following  the  Equatoi-,”  he  be- 
came sick  at  Vancouver  and  was  compelled  to  i-emain 
ther(‘  foui-  days  in  bed.  A nnmber  of  re])orters  were 
ontside  i-eqnesting  to  see  him,  so  IMajitr  Pond  Aveiit  to 
Mr.  Clemens’  room  and  said:  “A  number  of  reporters 

are  outside  desiring  to  see  you.”  “Show  them  up,”  he 
replied,  “and  ask  them  to  excuse  my  bed.”  This  was 
the  last  interview  he  accorded  to  news}»aper  men  in 
America. 

On  this  same  trip  occurred  another  amnsing  epi- 
sode. As  is  well  knoAvn,  Mt’,  Clemens  is  an  inveterate 


t<AMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


10 

smoker  and  one  scarcely  ever  sees  him  without  a pipe 
or  cigar.  The  day  preceding  his  sailing  from  Victoria 
for  Honolnln  he  purchased  several  thousand  cheroots 
and  fifteen  pounds  of  tobacco  to  smoke  in  his  pipe.  In 
the  midst  of  his  lecture  that  evening  he  stopped  ab- 
ruptly, and,  beckoning  his  manager  to  come  to  the 
stage,  said:  “I’ond,  I’m  afraid  that  cigar  store  will 

close  before  I get  through  with  this  lecture.  You  go 
over  there  and  buy  fifteen  hundred  more  of  those 
cheroots.’’  Then  he  turned  nonchalantly  to  his  audi- 
ence and  resumed  his  lecture  as  if  such  procc-^edings 
were  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary. 

Few  men  have  keener  eyes  than  Mark  Twain.  He 
observes  with  amazing  clearness  and  accuracy,  which 
accounts  for  his  graphic  descriptions  and  character  de- 
lineations. A well-known  author  once  said:  ‘T  would 
hate  to  do  something  x'eal  mean,  and  have  Mark  Twain 
turn  those  seai-ching  eyes  of  his  u}xon  me,  for  I verily 
believe  he  could  tell  that  I was  guilty.” 

When  not  engaged  in  literary  work,  Mr.  Clemens 
spends  the  greater  part  of  his  leisure  hours  in  playing 
billiards,  a game  of  which  he  is  very  fond.  He  is  also 
a base-ball  enthusiast,  attending  games  freipiently 
when  in  America.  One  day  at  a ball  game  he  became 
very  much  excited  about  a brilliant  play  that  was  made, 
and  in  his  excitement  forgot  to  look  after  his  umbrella. 
When  it  came  time  to  go  home,  he  looked  about  for  it, 
but  it  was  gone.  The  next  day  he  caused  this  strange 


76 


FIVE  FAMOUE  MltiHOVIUAFS. 


poster  to  be  stuck  up:  “Five  dollars  reward  for  iiiy 

umbrella  and  several  hundred  in  addition  for  the 
capture  of  the  one  who  stole  it,  dead  or  alive.” 

It  is  said  that  few  writers  whose  works  teem  with 
humor  are  really  humorous  in  their  convei-sation,  or 
bi-illiant  at  repartee;  however,  in  the  person  of  Mark 
Twain  is  found  an  exception.  His  apt  wit  is  illus- 
trated by  the  following  incident:  At  a New  England 

society  dinner  Clemens  had  just  finished  a piquant  ad- 
dress, when  William  M.  Evarts  arose  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  as  was  his  habit,  and  said:  “Does  it  not 

seem  unusual  to  this  gathering  1hat  a professional 
humorist  should  really  appear  funny?”  Clemens 
waited  till  the  laughter  occasioned  b}'  this  sally  had 
subsided,  then  arose,  and,  with  his  accustomed  drawl, 
replied:  “Does  it  not  also  appear  strange  to  this  as- 

sembly that  a lawyer  should  have  his  hands  in  his  own 
pockets?” 

Mr.  Clemens’  use  of  incidents  in  his  every-day  life 
to  make  stories  rich  in  humor  and  extravagance  is  illus- 
trated by  an  incident  said  to  have  occurred  in  a Ger- 
man city.  He  was  riding  in  a street-car  and  making  an 
extravagant  display  of  himself  wdiich  astonished  the 
natives  and  puzzled  the  conductor.  He  would  ruthless- 
ly,  purposely,  and  surreiititionsly  destroj^  the  checks, 
given  him  by  the  gate-keepers,  indicating  that  he  had 
]»aid  his  fare.  He  is  said  to  have  paid  his  fare  eleven 
times  on  one  trip,  just  to  get  the  material  out  of  which 


iiAMVEL  L.  CLEMEE^. 


lie  made  a most  laughable  and  amusing  story,  which 
commanded  a high  figure  with  the  editors. 

It  is  said  that  Mr.  Clemens  inherited  many  of  his 
characteristics  from  his  father  and  mother.  His  father, 
John  M.  Clemens,  was  one  of  the  hardy  pioneers  that 
j»aved  the  way  for  ISIissouri’s  development  as  a State. 
During  his  life  in  Hannibal  he  officiated  in  the  capacity 
of  justice  of  the  peace  for  that  pioneer  village,  and,  be- 
cause of  his  integrity  and  conservatism,  was  one  of  the 
most  respected  citizens  of  the  town.  He  died  while 
Samuel  was  a youth  in  Hannibal. 

Mr.  Clemens’  mother  lived  to  the  advanced  age  of 
eighty-three  years,  dying  in  1892,  at  the  home  of  her 
son,  Orion  S.  Clemens,  in  Keokuk,  Iowa,  and  was  l)uried 
by  the  side  of  her  husbaud  in  Hannibal.  Even  in  old 
age,  Mrs.  Clemens  had  retained  much  of  her  youthful 
beauty.  Her  hair  ivas  curly  and  snow-white  in  color, 
while  her  complexion  was  very  fair,  with  cheeks  of 
rosy  hue,  even  until  a few  months  preceding  her  death. 
She  was  fastidious  in  her  dress,  and  always  adorned 
her  head  with  fancy  white  caps  trimmed  with  lace  and 
ribbons.  In  conversation  she  was  witty,  drawling  her 
words  very  much  like  her  celebrated  son,  of  whom  she 
was  very  proud,  as  of  her  other  children. 

Of  Mrs.  Clemens’  family,  Orion  S.  Clemens,  as  many 
know,  became  secretary  of  the  Territory  of  Xevada,  liv- 
ing for  several  years  in  the  West.  He  died  several 
years  ago  in  Keokuk,  where  his  widow  yet  resides. 


78 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Henry  Clemens,  at  the  age  of  twenty,  was  killed  in  the 
steamboat  explosion  of  the  ill-fated  ^‘Pennsylvania,” 
near  Memi^his,  Tennessee.  He  was  a youth  of  promis 
ing  prospects,  and,  had  he  lived,  doubtless  would  have 
l)ecome  conspicuous  in  life.  Mr.  Clemens’  sister,  Mrs. 
Parmelia  A.  Moffett,  a lady  of  culture  and  intelligence, 
is  now  a resident  of  Fredonia,  Aew  York.  Her  son, 
Samuel  E.  Moffett,  is  a well-known  newspaper  man  of 
New  York. 

Mark  Twain’s  immediate  family  comprises  himself, 
his  wife  and  two  children,  Clara  Langdon  Cfemens  and 
Jean  Clemens,  aged  twenty-five  and  nineteen  years, 
resjtecfively.  Two  other  children  were  born  to  Mr.  and 
IMrs.  Clemens — Langdon,  in  1871,  and  Susan  Olivia,  in 
1872.  The  former  died  in  1872  and  the  latter  in  1890. 

Mrs.  Clemens  and  their  children  generally  accompa- 
nied the  humorist  on  his  travels,  and  their  home  life, 
with  such  a congenial  companion,  their  husband  and 
father,  is  naturally  pleasant.  For  many  years  they  re- 
sided in  Hartford,  Connecticut,  in  delightful  neighbor- 
liness with  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  and  Charles  Dudley 
Warner.  Hartford  has  always  been  their  home,  with 
the  excei)tion  of  a few  summers  spent  in  Elmira,  New 
York. 

To  classify  Mark  Twain  in  literature  is  a trifle  difti 
cult,  for  the  vei'satility  displayed  in  his  productions 
proves  that  he  has  been  eminently  successful  in  numer- 
ous fields.  As  a writer  of  character  sketches,  because 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


79 


of  liis  power  as  a delineator  of  character  and  portrayer 
of  scenes,  dealing  with  various  phases  of  American  life, 
he  is  probably  unsurpassed.  As  a humorist,  with  all 
the  extravagance  peculiar  to  American  representatives 
of  that  field,  no  one  has  divided  his  standing  as  the 
typical  representative.  In  marked  contrast  with  Mark 
Twain  the  humorist,  with  all  his  grotesqueness  in 
expression  and  narrative,  is  Mark  Twain  the  man  of 
vividity,  the  author  of  works  of  historical  value.  Yet, 
despite  this  versatility,  his  popularity  undoubtedly 
rests  largely  upon  one  phase  of  his  writings — that  is  the 
delicious  humor  pervading  his  productions,  which  war- 
rants his  classification  as  a humorist.  As  such  there 
are  few  authors  who  ever  lived  who  have  been  more 
popular  with  the  masses  than  he. 

Excepting  some  early  verses  published  in  the  Han- 
nibal Messenger,  Clemens’  first  writing  for  publication 
was  a newspaper  article,  published  in  the  New  Orleans 
True  Delta.  It  was  a burlesque  upon  a paragraph  re- 
lating to  information  about  the  river  written  by  Captain 
Isaiah  Sellers  under  the  nom  de  guerre  “Mark  Twain.” 
Sellers  was  an  authority  upon  all  matters  relating  to 
the  stage  or  history  of  the  river,  having  been  in  service 
ever  since  transportation  and  traffic  began  on  its  sur- 
face. Naturally  he  possessed  a large  fund  of  reminis- 
cences and  bits  of  historical  fact  concerning  the  Mis- 
sissippi. These  he  would  intersperse  freely,  and  often 
ill-timed,  when  reporting  bits  of  information  about  the 
—6— 


80 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


river  to  the  New  Orleans  Picayune.  One  day  while 
Clemens  was  a “cub”  pilot,  he  chanced  to  read  one  of 
these  paragraphs,  which  he  burlesqued  in  an  extended 
article.  Samuel  exhibited  his  production  to  a number 
of  pilots,  who  secured  the  manuscript  and  had  it  pub- 
lished in  the  New  Orleans  True  Delta.  It  elicited  a 
great  deal  of  comment  from  river  men,  being  enjoyed 
by  all  except  the  man  who  was  the  subject  of  the  bur- 
lesque. Thenceforth  Captain  Sellers  absolutely  de- 
tested Clemens. 

Clemens’  first  literary  production  to  attract  general 
attention  was  “Innocents  Abroad,”  which  established 
his  reputation  as  a humorist.  The  principal  elements 
of  Twain’s  humor  in  this  creation  are  irreverence  and 
exaggeration.  To  this  young  Yankee  reporter,  for  such 
he  was  at  that  time,  nothing  was  sacred.  His  innate 
hate  of  shams  and  cant  is  readily  discerned  in  “Inno- 
cents Abroad.”  “It  laughed  away,”  says  Vedder,  “the 
sentimental,  the  romantic  book  of  travels.”  But  there 
is  in  the  book  more  than  the  iconoclastic  satire,  for  the 
work  teems  with  skillfully  drawn  descriptions  and 
strong  characterizations. 

In  point  of  description  “Roughing  It”  is  similar  to 
“Innocents  Abroad,”  and  the  same  quaint  humor  is 
common  to  both  creations.  In  fact,  all  of  Twain’s  pro- 
ductions up  until  “Tom  Sawyer”  was  produced  were 
nearly  alike  in  characterization  and  in  portraiture.  The 
delineation  of  character  and  description  of  scenes  in  the 


SAMUEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


81 


West  during  its  wild  unsettled  era  make  “Kougliing 
It”  a book  of  exceptional  value.  Clemens  writes  it,  not 
from  research  into  the  conditions  of  that  period,  but  as 
an  actual  participant  in  the  happenings  of  that  excit- 
ing era,  for  such  he  was,  as  is  almost  universally  known. 
Bret  Harte  has  told  of  the  turbulent  mining  camps  of 
California,  while  Joaquin  Miller  in  verse  has  vividly 
portrayed  the  beauty  of  the  Western  mountains,  bnt  it 
has  remained  for  Mark  Twain  to  be  the  real  historian 
of  the  early-day  West.  In  “Boughing  It”  he  has  left 
behind  realistic  pen-pictures  of  the  emigrant  train, 
crossing  the  great  desert  to  reach  the  mines,  where  en- 
sued the  scramble  of  the  Argonauts  of  the  period  for 
the  precious  metal.  It  tells  of  the  time  when  law  and 
order  were  unknown,  and  when  the  pistol,  held  in  the 
hands  of  daring  desperadoes,  was  the  master  of  the 
situation.  There  is  also  told  of  the  period  when  by  a 
chance  stroke  of  the  pick  or  shovel  men  were  made 
millionaires,  and  as  quickly,  by  the  turn  of  a card,  ren- 
dered paupers.  The  book  breathes  the  spirit  of  the 
times  and  its  environments — ^the  vast  alkali  plains,  the 
canons  of  sublime  grandeur,  and  the  mountains  nn- 
excelled  in  all  the  world  for  their  picturesqueness  and 
extent.  Apparently  the  descriptions  are  treated  super- 
ficially, but  in  fact  they  are  minute  and  graphic. 

“A  Tramp  Abroad,”  written  upon  his  second  trip 
abroad,  contains  the_  same  clear  and  impressive  and 
delightful  humor  found  in  “Innocents  Abroad,”  but  did 


8:2 


FIVE  FAMOVE  MIBEOVRIAFS. 


not  attain  the  popularity  with  the  reading  public  as 
did  his  first  book  of  travel.  The  book  contains  some 
of  his  most  humorous  descriptions  of  personal  experi- 
ences on  his  trip  through  Germany  and  Switzerlaud. 

Perhaps  the  books  most  familiar  to  Western  readers 
are  “Tom  Sawyer”  and  “Huckleberry  Finn.”  Both  deal 
with  pioneer  life  in  Missonri  fifty  years  ago,  although 
the  latter  also  has  to  do  with  life  on  the  Mississippi  in 
those  days.  The  first  named  is  a story  of  boy  life  in 
“St.  Petersburg”  (Hannibal,  Missouri),  at  the  time  Mis- 
souri was  being  settled,  chiefly  by  emigrants  from  Vir- 
ginia and  Kentucky.  To  everyone  who  has  spent  his 
boyhood  in  the  country  or  in  a village  the  story  conres 
as  a pleasing  retrospect  of  the  past.  The  scenes  and 
characters  are  portrayed  with  irhotographical  exact- 
ness. The  book  is  adapted  to  please  all  periods  of  the 
human  life;  the  youth  reads  it  because  of  the  adven- 
tures contained  therein,  and  his  father  reads  it,  finding 
therein  pleasant  reminiscences  of  his  boyhood  days,  or, 
to  be  idiomatic,  he  “reads  between  the  lines.” 

A celebrated  English  novelist.  Sir  Walter  Besant, 
was  once  importuned  to  write  for  an  American  publi- 
cation an  article  entitled  “My  Favorite  Novelist  and 
His  Best  Book.”  As  his  subjects  he  chose  Mark  Twain 
and  “Huckleberry  Finn.”  To  the  assumed  erudite  his 
selection  appeared  a trifle  undignified,  but  to  the  truly 
discerning  he  manifested  keen  discrimination,  for  the 
book  in  many  respects  is  one  of  the  most  powerful 


V 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS.  83 

novels  of  our  language.  Undoubtedly  a work  that  in- 
terests'and  amuses  all  periods  of  life  is  one  of  strong 
dramatic  situations  and  evinces  genius  on  the  part  of 
the  author  for  having  the  power  to  so  adapt  it.  In 
‘‘Huckleberry  Finn”  Mark  Twain  has  develope<l  a phase 
of  life  and  treated  of  a period  untouched  by  any  other 
writer.  The  earliest  days  of  the  Southwest  are  therein 
told  with  a vividness  unprecedented,  and  what  is  not 
told  the  genius  of  the  author  has  so  subtly  provided  for 
that  the  reader  finds  it  suggested  to  him.  At  the  outset 
the  author  asserts  that  there  is  no  motive  in  the  narra- 
tive, no  moral  in  the  story,  and  concludes  by  saying  the 
book  is  -ttithout  a plot.  And  an  innovation  the  novel  is 
found  to  be  by  those  who  pursue  its  fascinating  pages, 
l^erhaps  partly  made  so  by  these  absences  of  what  had 
previously  been  deemed  essentials  in  that  branch  of 
literature. 

It  tells  of  a time  not  so  long  ago  in  years,  for  the 
time  of  the  story  is  scarcely  fifty  years  ago;  bvit  time 
has  brought  about  such  revolutionary  transformations 
that  it  seems  as  though  an  age  had  elapsed  between 
then  and  now.  With  Huckleberry  and  his  companion, 
“Nigger”  Jim,  the  reader  slowly  glides  down  the  great 
river  while  the  scenes  continuously  pass.  As  we  be- 
come absorbed  in  its  graphic  descriptions,  imagination 
makes  us  feel  that  we  are  aboard  the  rude  raft,  and 
see  passing  by  in  the  rich  Mississippi  moonlight  the 
great  steamers  and  hear  the  voice  of  “a  surly  boatman, 


84 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


rough  as  waves  or  wind.”  At  such  times  Huckleberry 
and  Jim  kept  close  to  shore,  fearing  that  the  latter 
would  be  captured,  for  he  was  none  other  than  a fugi- 
live  slave,  and  that  the  foraier  would  be  found  with 
such  a companion,  which,  in  his  anti-abolitionistic  opin- 
ion,'meant  permanent  disgrace.  As  they  seek  the  cover 
of  the  bushes  that  fringe  the  banks  in  order  to  escape 
Ihe  detection  of  a passing  raft  or  steamboat,  we  cau 
almost  hear  the  svdsh  of  the  current,  the  ploughing  of 
the  steamer’,  and  the  rolling  of  the  waves  against  the 
bank,  occasioned  by  the  gigantic  wheel  of  the  craft. 
After  a series  of  escapades,  the  pair  reach  the  borders 
of  Kentucky,  Mdiere  they  became  involved  in  a feud 
prevailing  at  that  time.  Their  adventures  are  so  spir- 
ited and  the  environments  so  realistically  portrayed 
that  the  description  of  a Kentucky  feud  may  be  said  to 
be  the  best  ever  given  in  American  literature. 

But  the  scene  shifts,  and  the  reader  finds  his  two 
adventurers  on  the  Arkansas  shore,  in  company  with 
two  wandering  rogues  and  vagabonds,  whom  they  wei;e 
compelled  to  take  aboard  on  the  way,  and  the  entire 
]>arty  draw  up  to  the  bank,  where  they  have  arrived  in 
town  on  that  day  of  days — circus  day.  Next  ensues  a 
series  of  adventures, invohdng  scenes  and  events  at  that 
time  such  as  camp-meetings,  and  like  events  character- 
istic of  the  period  and  place.  But  enough  of  the  skele 
ton  of  the  story,  for  no  description  is  adequate  to  tell 
of  what  the  book  contains. 


SAMVEL  L.  CLEMENS. 


85 


In  genera]  it  is  a romance  with  more  history  of  the 
Mississippi  Valley  at  that  period,  politically  of  course 
excepted,  than  is  contained  in  all  other  volumes  com- 
bined. In  addition  to  that,  the  book  is  of  great  philo- 
logical import,  involving,  as  it  does,  the  dialect  and 
idiomatic  speech  of  the  time  of  the  story. 

All  of  his  works  dealing  with  American  life,  as  has 
been  observed,  bear  a biographical  relation  to  the 
author.  Naturally,  the  others  are  of  lesser  import  to 
Americans. 

The  record  of  the  career  of  Samuel  L.  Clemens  is 
impossible  in  any  other  country  than  America,  and 
moreover  the  same  course  of  life  can  never  again  be  ex- 
perienced by  anyone  in  America,  for  the  conditions  have 
changed.  Born  in  a frontier  village  in  Missouri  'at  the 
time  the  surrounding  region  was  in  its  most  picturesque 
phase,  his  early  life  was  spent  among  conditions  that 
nowhere  now  prevail  in  America.  Then  he  spent  near- 
ly ten  years  on  the  world’s  greatest  river  at  the  time 
when  it  was  one  of  the  greatest  commercial  water-ways 
of  the  globe.  That  scene  of  activity  has  since  passed 
away  with  the  coming  of  the  railroad.  Next  he  is  found 
in  the  West  at  the  time  the  pioneer  was  beginning  to 
reclaim  this  great  region  from  the  dominion  of  the  Red 
Man.  These  spirited  and  peculiar  conditions  have  since 
been  supplanted  by  productive  fields,  rich  mines,  and 
prosperous  trade-centers.  The  conditions  enumerated 
have  all  since  passed  away,  but  the  world  is  extremely 


86 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


glad  that  he  (Clemens)  lived  in  the  midst  of  them, 
constituting  as  they  do  the  determining  periods  of  his 
life,  for  he  alone  has,  in  his  writings,  preserved  remi- 
niscences of  those  times  as  valuable  history  for  genera- 
tions who  experienced  them  not. 


V 


RICMARD  PARKS  BLAND. 


STATESMAN  AND  PUBLICIST. 


-=:  . . ■'  • -V 

S'  .,'  r-''  --TV 


,i* 


\ I 


'-■■r  :. 


INTEODUCTION. 


Eicharcl  Parks  Bland  was  an  unique  figure  in  Amer- 
ican politics.  The  history  of  the  Eepublic  cannot  be 
written  without  assigning  a high  place  and  large  space 
to  this  unpretentious  Missouri  farmer.  Wherever 
money  circulates  or  civilization  abounds,  his  name  is 
familiar  to  the  ears  of  men,  and  is  spoken  with  rever- 
ence and  affection  by  millions  who  never  looked  upon 
his  rugged  face,  and  to  whose  language  he  was  an  utter 
stranger.  He  belonged  to  that  very  small  group  of 
American  statesmen  who  achieved  imperishable  re- 
nown without  reaching  the  presidency.  You  can  count 
them  on  the  fingers  of  your  two  hands  without  counting 
twice;  but,  whoever  else  may  be  excluded  from  that 
goodly  company  by  the  inexorable  test  of  time.  Bland 
will  stand  there  immortal. 

What  was  the  secret  of  this  man’s  wondrous  hold 
upon  the  affections  of  mankind?  Not  dazzling  genius, 
for  he  had  none.  Not  soul-stirring  eloquence,  for  he 
was  no  orator.  Not  personal  magnetism,  for  he  was 
destitute  of  it.  Not  courtly  manners,  for  his  were 
brusque.  Not  great  and  varied  learning,  for  his  reading 
was  not  wide  and  his  investigations  were  limited  to 
economic  subjects.  Not  scintillating  wit,  for  his  was  a 
serious  mind.  Not  the  cunning  of  demagogues,  for  he 


90 


INTRODUCTION. 


was  artless  as  a little  child.  Not  great  wealth,  for  he 
was  poor  in  this  world’s  goods  and  had  no  desire  for 
riches.  Not  the  glamor  of  military  success,  for,  though 
a brave  Indian  fighter  on  the  Western  frontier,  he 
never  spoke  of  that  feature  of  his  life  without  being 
asked  about  it,  and  then  with  blushing  modesty.  Not 
a commanding  presence,  for,  though  his  face  was 
strong,  he  would  never  have  been  selected  as  a leader 
of  men  by  his  flesh  marks  alone. 

In  fact,  he  possessed  few,  if  any,  of  the  character- 
istics which  are  usually  deemed  necessary  to  a”  great 
political  career;  nevertheless  it  is  not  too  mnch  to  say 
that  he  was  one  of  the  most  potent  factors  in  the  poli- 
tics of  onr  age;  his  influence  girdled  the  globe  and 
favorably  afl'ected  the  prosperity  and  happiness  of 
dwellers  n})on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges  and  the  Nile, 
as  well  as  of  the  denizens  of  the  Mississippi  Valley. 
When  all  the  time-servers,  douljle-dealers,  and  self- 
seeking  wire-pullers  of  this  century  molder  in  forgotten 
graves,  the  pure  life,  the  amazing  self-abnegalion,  the 
lofty  patriotism,  the  benignant  philanthropy  of  “Silver 
Dick”  Bland  will  be  discussed  and  applauded  by  the 
historian  of  the  time  in  which  we  live. 

Young  men  ambitious  of  political  preferment  and 
of  a noble  and  enduring  fame  will  do  well  to  pass  light- 
ly by  the  shrewd  manipulators  and  aspiring  mounte- 
banks, and  to  study  profoundly  the  far-reaching  results 


INTRODUCTION. 


91 


of  Bland’s  career.  They  will  discover  that  his  com- 
manding position  was  due  to  his  intense  devotion  to 
principle,  to  his  absorbing  love  of  truth,  to  his  integrity 
of  mind,  and  to  his  uuquailing  courage.  He  stood  for 
conscience  in  politics  and  for  impartial  justice  and 
equal  rights  to  all  God’s  children.  Without  arrogance 
of  character,  he  possessed  an  independence  of  soul 
which  would  not  have  flattered  Neptune  for  his  trident 
or  Jove  for  his  power  to  thunder.  He  was  what  Marc 
Antony  described  himself  to  be,  but  what  Marc  most 
empha1:ically  was  not — “a.  plain,  blunt  man,  who  loved 
his  friends,”  and  he  died  amid  the  lamentations  of  the 
plain  people,  of  whom  he  was  the  best  type. 

Bland  was  not  only  honest,  but  he  avoided  the  very 
appearance  of  evil — a thing  to  be  commended  in  a 
public  man.  For  example,  when  his  admirers  in  Colo- 
rado presented  him  with  a rich,  magnificent  silver  ser- 
vice for  his  table  as  a testimonial  of  their  appreciation 
of  his  great  fight  for  silver,  with  a delicacy  rare  among 
statesmen,  he  declined  the  splendid  gift  with  thanks, 
being  unwilling  that  the  great  cause  for  which  he  stood 
and  which  he  had  so  much  at  heart  should  be  smirched 
by  even  the  suspicion  of  a mercenary  motive  on  his 
part.  The  sight  of  the  costly  and  artistic  service  was 
enough  to  make  a man’s  mouth  water,  but  I have  not 
even  the  shadow  of  a doubt' that  Bland  would  have  de- 
clined the  gift  had  it  been  another  Comstock  Lode. 


92 


INTRODUCTION. 


When,  however,  the  silver  wedding  of  the  Blands 
came  around,  and  his  Missouri  colleagues  in  the  House 
and  Senate  presented  them  with  a handsome  silver 
souvenir  of  their  affection,  he  cheerfully  accepted  that, 
for  not  even  malice  itself  could  suggest  a sordid  motive 
in  either  the  giving  or  acceptance.  Republicans  joining 
heartily  with  Democrats  in  making  the  gift. 

Though  his  public  speeches  contain  no  suggestion  of 
humor,  in  private  conversation  with  those  he  liked  he 
was  free,  opeii,  communicative,  both  telling  an  anec- 
dote well,  and  enjoying  the  fun  as  much  as  any.* 

He  was  too  couliding  and  was  easily  imposed  upon 
by  designing  knaves,  if  they  came  to  him  in  the  sacred 
name  of  friendship  or  of  political  kinship;  but  once 
convince  him  of  a man’s  duplicity  or  meanness  and  he 
shut  his  great  tender  heart  against  him  resolutely, 
mercilessly,  and  forever.  Under  provocation,  he  could 
use  language  as  harsh  and  vigorous  as  any  mau  I ever 
knew;  but  these  occasions  were  few  and  far  between. 

Socially  he  was  a bashful  man,  a most  lovable  man. 
It  was  a pleasure  to  accept  the  hospitality  of  the  Blands 
in  their  comfortable  Washington  home,  where  coutenl, 
mutual  trust,  and  loving  kindness  did  abound.  A 
fonder  husband,  a tenderer  father  never  lived,  and  he 
had  his  ample  reward  in  the  unstinted  love  of  his  wife 
and  children.  The  family  exerted  a sweet,  a whole- 
some, a benign,  an  elevating  influence  over  all  with 
whom  they  came  in  contact. 


INTRODUCTION. 


93 


Of  Bland  it  may  be  said,  as  Thomas  Jefferson  said 
of  James  Monroe:  “He  was  so  pure  that  if  his  soul 
were  turned  inside  out,  you  would  not  find  a blot 
upon  it.” 


\ 


CHAPTER  I. 


ANCESTRAL  ORIGIN  AND  EARLY  LIFE. 

For  a statesman  to  attain  the  highest  position  in 
his  chosen  field,  he  first  must  have  reached  the  fullest 
extent  of  usefulness  to  his  constituencv;  thus  it  is  that 
the  only  true  way  in  which  to  measure  a public  man’s 
worth  is  bj'  determining  the  extent  to  which  he  has 
labored  and  accomplished  good  for  the  people  he  serves. 
A man  may  spend  a lifetime  of  conspicuousness  before 
the  public  eye,  winning  the  proudest  laurels  of  an  orator; 
lie  may  become  renowned  for  his  shrewdness  or  his  ex- 
traordinary gift  of  diplomacy;  he  may  be  credited  with 
great  political  victories,  yet  if  when  the  life  is  weighed 
in  the  balance  and  the  weight  of  genuine  worth  and  ac- 
complished good  be  not  in  the  life’s  favor,  a discrimi- 
nating and  righteous  judge  is  forced  to  conclude  that 
the  career  is  lacking  in  essential  itarticulars. 

These  considerations  are  paramount  in  weighing  the 
life  and  character  of  Richard  Parks  Bland,  the  true 
elements  of  personal  value  being  in  his  favor.  The 
spectacle  of  a life  spent  in  impressing  itself,  uncon- 
sciously, undesignedly,  upon  the  history  of  a great  peo- 
ple is  that  which  lends  charm  to  the  contemplation  of 
his  figure.  He  was  not  an  orator,  yet  his  words  on 
certain  occasions  are  part  of  the  determining  factors  in 
—7— 


96 


FIVE  FAMOTJH  MIFEonniAyF. 


the  liistoi-y  of  public  (piestioiis  in  Congress;  he  had  not 
wiiat  men  fear  and  stand  in  awe  of,  and  style  as  shrewd- 
m^ss,  yet,  when  lie  moved  his  forces  in  the  campaigns  of 
Congress,  his  sagacionsness  commanded  the  highest 
admiration,  while  the  astute  ]H)liticians,  with  theii’ 
Iceminess  unavailing,  weri*  often  compelled  to  retreat. 
There  were  no  laurels  to  be  gotten  by  them  in  measur- 
ing swords  in  open  conflict  with  a man  whose  weapon 
was  truth,  wielded  with  an  arm  sujiported  by  an  un- 
sw<u-ving  conviction;  whose  political  dwelling  was  in 
an  atmosphere  of  honesty;  whose  heart  beat  in  sympa- 
thy with  the  peopl(‘  whose  lives  ai'e  the  nnder-current 
of  society;  whose  mind’s  eye  was  not  bent  upon  the 
luughts  of  ambition,  and  whose  favors  were  not  be- 
stowed for  selfish  i-eturn.  He  was  cambd  to  the  point 
of  bluntness,  and  tirm  to  a degree  that  was  unyielding, 
yet  his  tirmness  ;uid  his  frankness  wei-e  much  more 
feared  by  the  peojile's  enemies  than  equivocating,  re- 
sm'ving,  and  comjtromising  statesmanship  which  pre- 
tended to  seek  the  jieojtle’s  interest,  while  dealing  with 
their  foes.  Bland  was  a warrior  whose  lance  dashed  in 
ojten  sunlight,  a i-hampion  Avhose  arena  Wiis  roofed  by 
the  vaulted  heavens.  He  was  not  of  the  kind  to  tread 
lightly,  cast  about  stealthily,  evade  an  issue  or  consider 
what  his  course  on  a public  question  meant  to  himself 
and  his  political  fortunes. 

He  was  of  the  timber  out  of  which  Time  makes 
statesmen,  and  when  decades  hence  the  history  of  the 


RICHARD  P.  BLAXIJ. 


97 


epoch  of  American  achievements  extending  from  Becon- 
strnction  to  the  Spanish-American  War  is  written,  few 
men  of  liis  time  will  stand  higher  in  the  public  esti- 
mation than  Ifland. 

Not  since  the  time  of  Thomas  Hart  Benton  has  any 
j)nhlic  man  we  st  of  the  ^Mississippi  River  served  so  long 
in  Congress,  having  had  so  conspicuous  a part  in  the 
molding  of  contemporaneous  history  as  Bland,  and 
the  greatest  part  of  his  fame  lies  in  the  fact  that  the 
liowerful  iutliience  of  his  intellect  was  exercised  for 
good,  and  every  effort  of  his  life  directed  toward  the 
betterment  of  the  common  jieople.  in  sympathy  with 
whom  his  great  heart  juilsated  from  ('arly  manhood 
until  death  claimed  it.?  own. 

^Vhile  Mr.  Bland’s  ancestry  is  one  of  the  least  of 
his  claims  to  distinction,  few,  rising  as  he  did  into  such 
great  heights  politically,  could  trace  family  history  in- 
to such  uni(pie  and  distinguished  sources  as  he.  Not- 
withstanding his  patrician  fathers,  no  one  can  recall  an 
instance  when  the  predominant  traits  of  his  intensely 
democratic  character  permitted  the  exploiting  of  his 
distinguished  ancestry;  in  fact,  it  has  remained  for  the 
ones  who  have  analyzed  his  character  and  genealogy  t(.» 
discover  that  there  flowed  in  his  veins  the  blood  of  the 
aboriginal  princes  and  jirincesses  of  the  New  World, 
and  tliat  the  best  Englisli  and  Virginian  blood  was 
intermingled  in  him. 


98 


1<'IVE  F AMOVE  M1E8UUL-1AN8. 


The  history  of  Mr.  Bland’s  paternal  ancestors  rises 
in  an  nnknown  fountain-head,  hut  is  traced  ■with  ease 
from  a central  figure  in  an  incident  in  American  Colo- 
nial history,  constituting  one  of  the  most  charming  and 
interesting  chapters  in  the  stirring  tale  of  the  settle- 
ment and  conquest  of  the  region  which  once  lay  un- 
developed and  uncivilized  on  the  western  coast  of  the 
Atlantic. 

It  is  probably  to  be  doubted  that  when  the  dark- 
skinned  Pocahontas  saved  the  life  of  Captain  John 
Smith  in  the  days  of  Colonial  Virginia,  anyone  sup- 
posed, from  the  offspring  of  this  Indian  maiden,  there 
would  rise  generation  after  generation  of  the  flower  of 
Virginian  intellect  and  talent.  Yet  it  is  strangely  and 
romantically  true  that  the  descent  of  consanguinity 
from  Pocahontas  to  the  Blands  is  one  of  the  most  strik- 
ing in  the  history  of  American  families. 

Pocahontas,  daughter  of  Powhatan,  an  Indian  chief 
of  Virginia,  born  about  the  year  1595,  has  a life  filled 
with  romance  familiar  the  world  over  to  everyone  who 
knows  of  the  laying  of  the  foundation-stones  of  Ameri- 
can settlement  and  civilization.  She  was  about  twelve 
years  of  age  when  Cajdain  John  Smith  was  captured  by 
the  aborigines  and  confronted  by  death  in  a most  sav- 
age form.  Young  Pocahontas  had  early  shown  an  un- 
usual friendliness  toward  the  intruding  white  settlers, 
and  when  her  savage  relatives  brandished  their  mur- 
derous weapons  over  the  ill-fated  Englishman,  she 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


99 


threw  herself  upon  the  Captain’s  body  and  saved  his 
life.  This  opened  for  her  intercourse  with  the  English 
colonists,  then  the  advance-guards  of  civilization,  and 
she  was  soon  removed  from  her  Indian  home  by  one 
Captain  Argali,  who  secured  her  person  by  bribing  an 
Trdian  chief.  On  board  Captain  Argali’s  ship  she  met 
and  loved  a young  Englishman,  John  Eolfe,  and,  upon 
securing  consent  from  her  father  and  Sir  Thomas  Dale, 
they  were  married  at  Jamestown,  in  April,  1613. 

Pocahontas’  first  and  only  visit  to  England  was  sad- 
dened by  the  revelation  to  her  that  Captain  Smith  still 
lived.  When  she  met  him  in  London,  after  the  saluta- 
tion, she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  remaining  in  this 
posture  for  several  hours.  It  is  said  that  her  husband 
for  some  unknown  reason  had  been  a party  to  the  de- 
ception practiced  upon  her  by  those  who  told  her  that 
Smith  was  dead.  It  remains  that  she  was  about  to  de- 
part  from  England  in  apparent  regret,  when  death  over- 
took her  and  she  never  again  saw  her  native  land.  Her 
only  son  was  educated  by  an  uncle,  a London  merchant, 
and  settled  in  Virginia,  becoming  a person  of  consider- 
able influence  and  consequence.  His  descendants  are 
among  the  best  of  Virginia’s  product. 

. Colonel  Theodric  Bland,  of  Virginia,  was  the  grand- 
son of  Jane  Eolfe,  who  was  the  daughter  of  Pocahontas’ 
only  son;  hence  was  fifth  in  descent  from  the  colo- 
nists’ Indian  friend,  best  known  in  history  because  of 
her  heroic  stand  for  the  life  of  Captain  t^mitli.  Eichard 


100 


FIVFj  FAMOliF  MIFFOFFIANF. 


J‘arks  Bland  is  the  great-grandson  of  Chdonel  Bland; 
hence  the  ancestral  chain  is  easily  followed  from  the 
Missoni-i  statesman  back  to  Pocahontas  and  John 
Bolfe,  of  England. 

Colonel  Theodric  Bland,  known  as  i)atriot,  scholar, 
gentleman,  and  more  consjticnonsly  as  a member  of 
(ieneral  Washington's  staff  in  the  Revolntion,  was 
born  in  Ih'ince  (Jeorge  County,  Virginia,  in  1742,  and 
was  sent  early  in  his  youth  to  Wakefield,  England,  the 
scene  of  Goldsmith's  great  literary  work,  “The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield,”  where  he  i)ursued  academical  studies, 
siibseiinently  taking  up  the  study  of  medicine  as  a jtrep 
a.ration  for  his  life's  jn'ofession,  completing  his  edu- 
cation at  Edinburgh.  As  a young  physician  he  settled 
in  the  neighborhood  of  his  birthplace,  becoming  a 
pioneer  worker  for  the  elevation  of  the  medical  profes- 
sion of  America  to  high  ethical  standing. 

One  of  the  first  propositions  to  regulate  the  prac- 
tice of  medicine  in  the  Colonies  by  law  Avas  made  by 
l>r.  Bland,  who  drew  a ])etition,  winch  was  sigmal  by 
his  fellow-students  and  otlu'i'  citizens  of  Virginia,  then 
]ii-esented  to  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  asking 
them  to  enact  a law  forbidding  the  practice  of  medicine 
in  Virginia  without  the  securing  of  a proper  license. 

At  the  very  inception  of  the  American  Revolntion 
Dr.  Bland,  however,  abandoned  his  chosen  profession  to 
lake  up  arms  for  the  ('oloni(‘s  mid  to  fight  for  tlu*  cause 
(if  Indeptmdence, 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


101 


Lord  Duiimore,  then  Governor  of  Virginia,  was  par- 
ticularly disliked  bv  the  Vii'ginians  of  the  times,  who 
shared  in  the  radical  anti-British  views  of  Doctor 
Bland.  Dnnmore  was  discovered  to  have  secreted  in 
his  cellar  a lot  of  ammunition  abstracted  from  the  Col- 
ony's arsenal.  This  discovery  incensed  the  people  of 
the  Colony  souinch  that  a party  of  Virginia  gentlemen, 
of  whom  Doctor  Theodric  Bland  was  a leader,  went  to 
the  residence  of  the  Governor  and  took  these  stolen 
arms  from  him.  Shortly  after  this  event  a series  of 
letters,  signed  “Cassius, " appeared,  creating  consider- 
able excitemeni  because  of  the  bitter  denunciations  of 
Lord  Dnnmore  they  contained.  Dr.  Bland,  it  was 
afterwai-ds  made  known,  was  the  author  of  the  letters, 
which  had  greatly  to  do  with  the  crystallization  of  the 
spirit  of  the  times  into  invincible  determination  on  the 
j»art  of  the  people  of  Virginia  to  achieve  independence. 

When  the  first  troop  of  Virginia  cavalry  was  organ- 
ized, Theodric  Bland  was  made  captain,  later  becoming 
lieutenant-colonel  at  the  organization  of  six  companies 
of  cavaliy,  and  as  such  he  joined  the  main  Colonial 
Army  in  1777. 

Throughout  the  entire  war,  excepting  a term  in  the 
Virginia  Senate.  Lieutenant-( 'olonel  Bland  served  in 
the  military  forces  of  the  Colonies,  enjoying  General 
Washington’s  esteem  and  confidence.  He  was  on 
Washington’s  statf  for  some  time  during  the  latter  por- 
tion of  the  wnr,  He  was  often  given  responsible  trusts 


102 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


and  had  important  posts  entrusted  to  him.  Among 
other  important  missions  placed  in  his  hands  was  the 
command  of  the  prisoners  taken  at  the  battle  of  Sara- 
toga, whence  they  were  marched  to  Charlottesville, 
Virginia. 

After  the  close  of  the  Revolution,  Colonel  Bland 
Avas  elected  to  the  Continental  Congress,  where  he  was 
distinguished  for  his  valuable  and  able  services.  His 
mansion  at  Philadelphia,  duringthe  sitting  of  Congress, 
was  the  center  of  culture,  thought,  and  patriotism.  It 
was  known  as  the  resort  of  the  distinguished  men  of 
the  period,  among  whom  were  General  Washington, 
Marquis  de  Lafayette,  M.  de  Noailles,  M.  de  Dumas,  and 
others,  who  Avere  in  the  habit  of  congregating  at  the 
home  of  the  Virginia  representative  for  the  exchange 
of  courtesies  and  counselling  over  the  momentous 
issues  of  the  time. 

He  Avas  continued  in  Congress  until  ILSS,  at  which 
time  he  returned  to  Vii‘ginia.  In  1778,  he  was  called 
from  private  life,  and  Avas  elected  delegate  from  Vir- 
ginia to  the  convention  to  ratify  the  federal  constitu- 
tion. During  the  deliberations  of  this  body  he  was  an 
active  supporter  of  the  spirit  of  the  convention,  al- 
though at  the  close  he  patriotically  dissented  from 
some  of  the  advocates  of  the  measures  adopted,  as  well 
as  particular  provisions  of  the  constitution  framed,  vot- 
ing as  he  did  against  the  adoption  of  that  compact. 
However,  such  was  the  confidence  reposed  in  him  by 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


103 


the  people  of  Virginia,  that  he  was  elected  as  Virginia's 
first  representatire  in  the  Congress  formed  under  the 
workings  of  the  constitution  which  he  had  opposed. 
He  died  June  1,  1790,  during  the  sitting  of  Congress  in 
New  York. 

Theodric  Bland  is  pronounced  one  of  the  most  thor- 
ough gentlemen  of  the  Colonial  period.  He  was  tall, 
possessed  of  a noble  countenance,  dignified  in  manner 
and  of  well-bred  repose.  His  social  accomplishments 
are  referred  to  as  setting  olf  an  elegant  and  distin- 
guished person.  His  public  life  and  private  character 
are  inseparable  in  Colonial  recollection  from  rigid  in- 
tegrity and  unfaltering  espousal  of  and  devotion  to 
principle.  He  was  studious  in  his  application  of  his 
energies  toward  the  performance  of  duty. 

His  descendants  and  kinsmen  in  Virginia  and 
Maryland  comprise  some  of  the  most  aristocratic  and 
cultured  of  the  old  families  of  those  States.  Marr-iage 
and  intermarriage  have  connected  the  family  with 
many  whose  names  and  deeds  are  part  of  Virginia’s 
boasted  excellence.  The  mother  of  John  Randolph, 
the  famous  Virginia  statesman,  was  a Bland  of  direct 
descent  from  Colonel  Theodric  Bland.  The  famous 
Virginia  family  of  Lees  are  closely  connected. 

None,  however,  of  the  distinguished  descendants  of 
Theodric  Bland,  who  was  successively  a student,  phys- 
ician, soldier,  officer,  representative  in  Congress,  and 
always  a faithful  friend  and  reliable  counsellor,  have 


104 


FIVE  ElMOOE  MI8E0URIANF:. 


had  careers  of  as  much  consequence  as  that  of  the  re- 
nowned silver  leader.  2vot  even  John  Randolph  made 
in  life  so  deep  an  impress  upon  the  national  history  as 
Richard  Parks  Bland,  the  most  illustrious  of  the  famous 
sons  of  Pocahontas. 

x\  branch  (»f  the  Virginia  Blands  removed  from  the 
‘‘Old  Dominion”  early  in  the  nineteenth  century,  set- 
tling in  Xelson  (‘ounty,  Kentucky,  a county  adjoining 
the  county  in  which  the  Missouri  publicist  was  born. 

( )ne  of  the  families  settled  in  tVashington  County, 
where  was  l)orn  Stoughen  Edward  Bland,  the  father  of 
Richard  Parks.  Stoughen  Edward  Bland  was  born  of 
Presbytei-ian  j)aj-entage  and  was  raised  in  the  denom- 
ination, being  educated  for  the  Presbyterian  ministry, 
graduating  at  Center  College,  Danville,  Kentucky.  His 
health  was  ])oor,  however,  and  he  found  the  duties  of 
the  clergy  too  arduous  for  one  in  his  state  of  health  to 
])erfonn,  so  he  removed  to  Hartford  in  Ohio  County, 
where  he  began  teaching  school,  which  was  the  only 
source  of  his  livelihood.  He  was  a man  of  good  edu- 
cation, high  moral  attainments,  and  esteemed  in  the 
pioneer  days  of  Ohio  County  as  an  exceptionally  up- 
right man. 

In  Hartford  he  met  Margaret  Parks  Kali,  whom  he 
married  later.  She  was  of  a family  of  French  Hu- 
guenots, which  had  emigrated  from  Louisiana  into 
Kentucky,  near  the  close  of  the  last  century.  Her 
middle  Tifune  of  pgrks,  qfterwnnl  imuiorthlij;e4  Ip  Rich- 


RICHARD  r.  BLAyU. 


105 


art!  Parks  BUuid,  was  given  her  by  her  parents  aftei- 
the  family  name  of  some  very  intiiiiqte  friends  of  her 
people — the  I’arks  family,  which  had  come  to  Kentucky 
with  the  Hanks  family,  from  which  came  the  mother 
of  Abraham  Lincoln,  Nancy  Hanks.  They  had  come 
to  Kentucky  together  about  the  time  the  Nalls  left 
Louisiana. 

Margaret  Parks  Nall  became  the  wife  of  Stonghen 
Edward  Bland,  and  on  Angnst  10,  1S3.5,  a son.  Eichard 
Parks  Bland,  was  born.  Other  children  to  the  union 
were  Charles  Clelland,  boni  February  0.  1837,  now 
judge  of  the  ('onid  of  Appeals  of  the  Eastern  District 
of  Missouri;  and  Elizabeth,  now  the  wife  of  Fred  M. 
Tetley,  and  a resident  of  Bonne  Terre,  Missouri. 

The  father  taught  school  at  Hartford  for  two  or 
Ihree  years  successfully ; then,  upon  the  advice  of  a 
phvsician,  he  abandoned  the  S(diool-room  and  bought  a 
farm  several  miles  fi  (»m  Hartfoi  d,  on  what  was  known 
as  Bough  Creek.  Here  he  built  and  o])erated  foi-  some 
years  a grist-mill,  known  then  and  yet  as  “Bland's 
Mill,”  to  which  the  faiiners,  from  all  around  through 
the  then  sparsely  settled  country,  came  with  their  corn 
and  grain.  In  1812  he  died  of  consumption,  and  the 
children  were  scattei-ed  among  the  relatives  of  theii' 
mother. 

Mrs.  Bland  a few  years  later  married  a second  time, 
but  did  not  survive  her  second  marriage  long.  She  and 
Ijer  nmtlier,  Mrs.  Nall,  with  whmn  RichaiM  luui  gonp  tp 


106 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


live  at  the  time  of  liis  father’s  death,  were  stricken  in 
an  epidemic  of  tj^phoid  fever,  and  died  in  December, 
1849. 

Young  Richard  was  thus,  at  the  age  of  fourteen, 
thrown  iii)on  his  own  resources.  His  time  had  always 
been  spent  industriously,  and  now  his  industry  was 
sliniulated.  In  these  boyhood  days  he  was  of  a Ih-ight, 
cheerful  nature,  fond  of  athletic  sports,  eager  for  new 
scenes  and  adventures,  alert  in  observation,  and  sharp 
and  keen  in  perception;  a careful,  painstaking  student, 
burning  midnight  oil  with  the  pei'severance  that  suc- 
ceeds and  which  has  characterized  so  many  of  the 
woi'ld’s  greatest  men  in  youth. 

II  e was  known  to  his  father's  friends  and  neighbors 
as  one  of  the  brightest,  most  prondsing  boys  of  the 
neighborhood,  and  was  universally  accorded  respect  be- 
yond his  years’  due.  He  acquired  what  education  he 
secured  after  his  father’s  death  by  dint  of  his  own 
effort  and  by  the  most  studious  industry.  In  the  sum- 
mer months  he  found  it  irecessary  to  work  upon  neigh- 
boring farms,  ordinarily  receiving  not  more  than  six  or 
seven  dollars  each  month,  with  board,  for  his  services. 
At  an  early  age  he  began  teaching  school  in  Ohio  Coun- 
ty, at  intervals  attending  school  at  Hartford  in  the 
Academy  which  his  father  had  founded.  After  a feAV 
months  he  i-eceived  a teacher's  diploma  at  Hartford, 
from  which  time  until  his  removal  to  Missouri  he 
(aught  sclurol  with  fair  success,  at  one  time  teaching  in 
Hartford  A cademy. 


KICJIAJW  1\  BLAND. 


107 


.Vu  aunt  of  whom  he  was  very  fond,  a sister  of  his 
motlier,  wiio  had  moved  fo  Missouri  in  lier  early  life, 
was  then  married  to  Robert  Fulton,  and  living  in  Ar- 
cadia, Iron  County,  Missouri,  where  also  were  his 
brother,  Charles,  and  sister,  Elizabeth.  The  brother 
had  moved  there  in  1850.  The  aunt  wrote  to  her 
nephew  in  Kentucky,  suggesting  a removal  to  Missouri, 
and  the  latter  decided  to  cast  off  the  many  ties  which 
he  had  formed  in  his  native  State  and  did  remove  to 
Missouri.  For  several  months  he  taught  school  in 
W'ayne  County,  Missouri. 

In  1850  ihe  aunt  and  uncle  decided  to  go  to  Cali- 
foi'nia,  a name  then  as  much  gilded  in  the  public  eye  as 
in  the  days  of  the  gold-seekers  of  ’49  and  ’54.  The 
young  nephew  was  invited  to  accompany  them,  which 
he  did.  lie  had  a great  attachment  for  his  aunt  and 
the  Fulton  family,  and  this  attachment  had  probably 
as  much  to  do  with  his  removal  to  the  West  as  his 
natural  desire  to  better  his  financial  condition. 

llis  subsequent  residence  in  the  West  may  be  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  most  important  phases  of  his  entire 
life,  in  A’iew  of  the  capacity'  in  which  he  figured  most 
conspicuously  in  later  years.  It  was  here  that  he 
gathered  no  small  part  of  the  information  along  the 
lines  of  ndiiing  and  coinage  which  served  him  so  well 
as  chairman  of  the  House  Committee  on  Mines  and 
ilining,  and  which  assisted  him  in  making  this  com- 
mittee one  of  the  most  important  branches  of  the  legis- 


108 


FIVE  FAMOUE  MJESOI'EIAXE. 


lalive  (lepaituianr  of  the  Federal  Govenimeul,  and 
made  its  acts  and  discnssioiis  to  become  leading  parts 
of  the  hisfoi-y  of  American  finance.  It  was  here  that 
he  obtained  the  nnclens  of  the  great  fninS  of  knowledge 
of  monetary  matters  which  later  made  him  an  author- 
ity S('c(tnd  to  none  of  his  contem]M»raiies.  Ilis  writings 
and  sjieeches  along  these  lines  will  thereby  go  down 
into  economic  history  as  classics  of  tludr  kind. 

It  is  wisely  claimed  that  in  every  man's  life  there 
can  l>e  fonnd,  upon  analyzing  the  career  with  care,  a 
series  of  environments,  corres]»ondence  with  which  has 
more  to  do  than  any  other  circnmstance  or  series  of 
cii'cnmstances  in  develoihng  the  man,  his  character, 
ideas,  and  persmial  dis}H)sition.  Each  life  seems  to  ])os- 
st*ss  a jiivoral  ]teriod,  upon  the  changing  scenes  of  which 
the  coni'se  of  the  lib"  vec'cs,  and  daring  which  lasting 
imjiressions  are  mad(".  In  Bland's  life,  his  great  jaomi- 
nence  in  political  agitation  and  in  economic  annals  can. 
almost  with  certainty,  be  attributed  to  the  fruit  of  his 
observations  in  the  \^'est  more*  than  to  anything  else. 

llei(‘,  in  a growing  country,  surrounded  by  natural 
wealth  iiutold,  h(‘  learned  the  great  lesson  taught  by 
Nature  in  her  own  jilenitude;  a lesson  which  he  after 
wards  unfolded  in  staunchly  claiming  that  the  greatest 
good  for  the  common  people  lay  in  the  liberal  utiliza- 
tion of  Nature’s  own  provisions  for  commerce.  Here  it 
was  that  he  learned  the  mechanical  details  of  mintage 
iuid  coinage*,  which  enabled  him  to  develop  the  keen 


RICHARD  F.  BLAND. 


109 


discenmient  that  characterized  the  chairinan  of  tiie 
House  Committee  on  Mines  and  Mining  when  lie  noted 
the  far-reacliing  effect  of  something  the  great  mass  of 
the  American  people  had  overlooked — the  dropping  of 
the  silver  dollar  in  the  authority  for  coinage,  given  in  a 
revision  of  the  mint  laws.  Hero  he  began,  by  the  light 
of  the  miner’s  lamp,  in  the  deserts  of  the  Sierras,  to 
search  for  the  causes  of  the  stability  of  monetary 
values;  here,  in  the  crude  text-book  of  experience,  he 
studied  the  rudiments  of  the  science  of  metallic  value, 
and  saw  the  source  of  the  stream  of  wealth,  which, 
poured  into  commerce’s  veins,  gives  the  great  body  life, 
and  lends  vigor  to  exchange. 

The  mountains  and  mining  camps  of  the  far  West 
in  early  days  were  the  training  schools  of  Kichai-d 
Parks  Bland,  the  publicist,  whose  views  on  monetary 
matters  have  been  instilled  into  the  national  life,  and 
have  become  part  of  political  history. 

After  arriving  in  California,  Bland  and  his  uncle 
worked  at  mining  and  prospecting  for  gold  a short 
time  together.  Fulton  soon  succumbed  to  the  unsalu- 
tary  conditions  of  the  country  and  died,  leaving  his 
wife  and  three  small  boys  in  the  care  of  his  nephew. 
Mrs.  Fulton  did  not  long  survive  her  husband  and  soon 
followed  him  to  the  grave;  Richard  Bland  being  left 
to  care  for  his  three  little  cousins,  whom  fortune  had 
thrown  into  his  none  too  strong  hands. 


110 


FIVP]  FAMOUS  MI8S0UJMANS. 


He  continued  to  mine  with  only  indifferent  success, 
while  caring  assiduously  for  his  infant  charges.  Feel- 
ing the  burdens  of  this  sort  of  life  greatly,  he  communi- 
cated concerning  the  conditions  with  an  uncle,  in  Mis- 
souri, who  provided  means  and  transportation  for  the 
young  Fultons,  upon  which  provision  the  boys  were 
placed  aboard  a steamer  bound  for  New  Orleans  and 
started  for  Missouri.  The  ship,  however,  met  a melan- 
clioly  fate  and  two  of  the  boys  went  down  into  the 
deplhs  of  a watery  grave,  one  only,  George  Fulton,  be- 
ing saved  from  the  wreck  of  the  ship.  He  returned, 
and,  after  his  marriage  in  later  years,  settled  in  Penn- 
sylvania. 

Young  Bland,  now  left  alone  upon  his  own  resour- 
ces, drifted  from  place  to  place  in  the  role  of  a miner. 
The  various  districts  of  the  territories  wherein  mining 
operations  were  progressing  were  visited  by  him,  but 
with  no  success.  He  finally  went  to  Lower  California, 
and  from  there  to  Virginia  City,  in  what  is  now  the 
State  of  Nevada. 

Near  Virginia  City  he  located  a claim,  which  in  all 
probability  would  have  made  him  a millionaire  had  he 
stayed  and  worked  it.  He  gave  up  disheartened,  how 
e\er,  after  having  no  success  at  all  in  his  operations, 
and  abandoned  the  claim,  locating  in  Virginia  City. 

In  after  years  the  world-famed  Comstock  Lode  was 
discovered  less  than  one  hundred  yards  from  Bland’s 
old  claim.  It  was  a narrow  slip  from  out  of  a fortune, 


RIOBARD  P.  BLAND. 


Ill 


but  bis  abandonment  of  the  claim  changed  the  current 
of  his  life.  He  ceased  thenceforth  to  be  a seeker  for 
gold,  and  chose  a profession,  in  pursuit  of  which  he 
afterward  left  the  West  and  returned  to  Missouri. 

When  Mr.  Bland  removed  to  Virginia  City,  he  took 
up  the  study  of  law,  which  was  mainly  prosecuted  in 
the  office  of  B.  B.  Mayes,  at  that  place.  During  his 
residence  there  he  filled  his  first  office — in  fact,  the  only 
one  he  ever  held  outside  of  his  services  in  Congress.  In 
1860  he  was  made  county  treasurer  of  Carson  County, 
Utah,  what  is  now  the  State  of  Nevada,  which  office  he 
held  until  the  organization  of  the  Territory  of  Nevada. 

The  studies  requisite  to  preparation  for  the  legal 
profession  were  simultaneous,  on  Mr.  Bland’s  part,  with 
terms  of  school-teaching  at  frontier  school-houses,  and 
such  other  employment  as  he  could  find  available  to 
assist  him  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  He  was  ad- 
mitted to  the  bar  in  1860,  in  the  United  States  District 
Court  of  Utah  Territory,  at  Carson  City,  with  William 
M.  Stewart,  later  United  States  senator  from  Nevada, 
as  one  of  the  examiners. 

About  this  time  he  joined  the  Nevada  militia  and 
fought  Indians  awhile.  In  1860  the  Piutes  rose  in  mur- 
derous throngs  'and  became  so  objectionable  that  a vol- 
unteer company  was  sent  from  Virginia  City  and 
met  the  Indians  at  Pyramid  Lake,  leaving  the  bones 
of  the  greater  part  of  the  militiamen  bleaching  on  the 
plains,  only  a few  returning  to  tell  the  story,  which  has 

—8— 


112 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI AlTS. 


SO  aiany  coiiuterpaits  in  pioneer  annals.  Mr.  Eland 
entered  a volnnteer  company'  sent  Avitli  California  Reg 
ulars  from  a.  fort  built  at  Alrginia  City,  called  Fort 
Churchill.  They  marched  upon  the  Indians  at  Pyramid 
Lake,  the  scene  of  the  former  bloody  struggles  between 
the  militiameji  and  the  Indians.  After  a few  days  of 
skirmishing,  during  which  the  soldiers  subsisted  upon 
raw  meat  alone  without  seasoning,  the  Indians  con- 
sented to  a treaty  of  peace,  and  the  soldiers  returned  to 
their  homes. 

Mr.  Bland  was  the  recipient  of  a bullet-shot  in  this 
series  of  Indian  skirmishes,  which  left  a scar  just  below 
his  right  knee-cap,  marking  the  place  through  life. 

This  was  Mr.  Bland’s  only  ‘‘war  record.”  In  the 
year  of  these  Indian  conflicts  the  strife  in  the  Eastern 
and  Southern  States  was  just  l)eginning  to  assume 
Ihreatening  proportions,  but  those  who  were  on  the 
AA'estern  side  of  the  great  plains  were  so  isolated  from 
the  scenes  of  the  controA^ersies  that  they  A\mre  not  par- 
ticipants in  the  greater  part  of  the  prejudices  and  ex- 
citement of  the  time.  The  line  of  division  between  the 
Lbiionist  and  the  Confederate  in  the  AVest  was  drawn, 
Avhen  at  all,  only  upon  a basis  of  sympathy. 

The  part  which  Mr.  Bland  took  in  the  years  which 
succeeded  the  Rebellion  was  extremely  fitting,  in  Anew 
of  Ihe  unprejudiced  ])Osition  he  filled  in  the  bellicose 
days  of  stHdional  strife.  It  is  noticeable  throughout 
his  eirlire  ])ublic  career  that  the  issues  of  the  Avar  grow- 


RICHARD  P.  BLAYD. 


113' 


iug'  out  of  the  seetiouaJ  diyisions  were  dwarfed  and 
overshadowed  as  Richard  Parks  Bland  approached  the 
zenith  of  his  fame  and  the  height  of  hi«  influence.  He 
brought  new  questions  which  assisted  greatly  in  the 
economic  re-alignment  of  the  Amencan  people  with  re- 
gard to  other  premises  than  those  of  the  Rebellion. 

Bland  was  a type  of  men  who  serve  a patriotic  pur- 
Iiose,  as  neutralizers  between  sectional  enemies,  left  as 
the  inevitable  results  of  civil  dissension.  His  life  then 
was  conspicuously  free  from  the  prejudicial  influences 
of  the  days  of  the  war,  which  might  have  altered  and 
detracted  from  his  usefulness  had  this  part  of  his  life 
not  been  spent  in  the  West. 


CHAPTER  II. 


EAELY  PROFESSIONAL  CAREER.— ELECTION 
TO  CONGRESS.— EARLY  WORK  IN  BE- 
HALF OF  SILVER.— A FAMOUS 
DEBATE. 

For  six  years  after  liis  admission  to  the  bar,  Mr. 
Itlaml  continued  a resident  of  the  Territory  (later  the 
State)  of  Nevada,  practicing  law  and  teaching  school, 
until  the  year  after  the  close  of  the  War  of  the  Rebel- 
lion, 18'6G,  when  he  concluded  to  return  to  Missouri, 
which  he  did  in  the  fall  of  ’G6,  spending  a month  in  the 
citj'  of  St.  Louis.  December  1, 18GG,  he  entered  the  office 
of  his  l)rother,  C.  C.  Bland,  at  Rolla,  Mo.,  whither  the 
latter  had  preceded  him  and  was  then  enjoying  a good 
]»ractice.  They  then  entered  into  par-tnership,  and  until 
the  removal  of  the  elder  brother  to  Lebanon,  Laclede 
County,  this  association  continued. 

The  firm  of  Bland  & Bland  achieved  considerable 
success  in  the  practice  of  law.  It  was  engaged  in  most 
of  the  important  litigation  in  Phelps  and  adjoining 
comities.  One  of  the  most  notable  cases  in  which  the 
I wo  lir others  were  retained  was  “Phelps  County  against 
E.  M.  Bishop,"  which  had  been  brought  against  Bishop 
(o  test  the  validity  of  funding  bonds  issued  by  the 
county  to  Bishop.  Three  successive  suits  of  this  char- 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


115 


acter  were  brought,  iuvolviug  large  amounts  of  the 
county  bonds.  Bland  & Bland  represented  Bishop  in 
all  the  cases,  coming  out  victorious  in  each. 

The  practice  of  Bland  & Bland  grew  steadily  dur- 
ing the  time  of  the  co-partnershij>.  It  gained  for  the 
members  of  the  firm  wide  reputations  as  being  among 
the  ablest  lawyers  in  that  portion  of  the  country.  They 
were  victorious  in  the  most  important  of  their 
cases  and  gained  standing  at  the  l)ar  as  successful 
practitioners. 

A murder  case  of  extraordinary  interest,  locally,  ad- 
ded much  to  the  reputation  of  the  firm,  particularly  to 
that  of  the  elder  member  of  it,  Bichard  P.  Bland. 
“State  against  Morgan,”  the  title  of  the  cause,  oc- 
casioned a good  deal  of  local  feeling,  and  was  most  in 
teresting  in  detail.  The  Blands  were  engaged  in  the 
defense  and  fought  a long,  hard  fight.  The  prosecution 
made  an  unusually  desperate  effort  to  convict,  while 
the  trial  judge  was  plainly  in  sympathy  with  the  prose- 
cution and  used  his  powers  unsparingly  to  secure  o con- 
viction. R.  P.  Bland,  the  senior  member  of  the  firm 
of  brothers,  was  the  leading  attorney  for  the  defendant, 
and  conducted  the  case  almost  entirely  alone.  He  con- 
tended faithfully  for  the  client’s  cause,  standing  for 
him  staunchly  when  the  prospects  for  conviction  wei  e 
strongest.  Even  the  evidence  was  conducive  to  th  * 
intensifying  of  the  prevailing  prejudices  against  the 
def^dant. 


116 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


^Vllen  the  time  came  for  Mr.  Bland  to  make  his 
closiiijj;  speech  in  behalf  of  Morgan,  the  jury  seemed  to 
symjtathize  with  (he  prosecution,  and  the  crowds  in  the 
court -I'oom  were  bitter  against  the  defendant.  Mr. 
Bland  arose,  began  a calm,  unimpassioned  argument 
ill  his  client's  behalf,  and  the  tide  began  to  turn.  He 
made  in  this  coui-t-room  one  of  the  most  forceful,  effect- 
ive, logical,  and  eloquent  speeches  he  ever  delivered, 
and  when  he  had  tinished,  the  popular  feeling  was 
changed,  and  the  jury  brought  in  a verdict  of  acquittal, 
the  whole  case  having  proved  to  be  a test  of  Mr.  Bland's 
powers  as  a trial  lawyer,  and  then  people  began  to  talk 
about  his  ability. 

His  practice  extended  over  several  counties, and  was 
conducted  with  success  until  18t>9,  when  he  terminated 
his  partnership  with  his  brother  and  moved  to  Lebanon, 
the  county  seat  of  Laclede  County,  on  the  Atlantic  & 
Pacitic  Kailroad,  farther  southwest  of  Kolia.  Here  he 
began  the  building  of  the  reputation  of  a lifetime. 

His  removal  was  with  the  simplicity  which  char- 
acterized his  life.  He  opened  a.  law  office  in  the  county 
seat  of  Laclede  County  with  no  eclat,  sought  no  adver- 
tisement, asked  for  no  favors,  strived  for  no  conspicu- 
ousness, even  in  local  affairs,  seldom  spoke  at  public 
gatherings,  simply  settled  down  in  his  little  office, 
which  he  retained  for  years,  and  pondered  over  statu- 
tory and  judicial  law  from  dawn  until  twilight. 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


117 


A little  circle  of  sympatliizers  with  his  known  politi- 
cal views  sought  him  out,  and  soon  became  fast  friends 
of  his.  This  coterie  of  friends  and  admirers  was  small 
and  comprised  men  in  kind  with  himself.  They  devel- 
ojied  the  greatest  admiration  for  him  and  his  personal 
eliaracter. 

At  that  time,  ilr.  Bland,  as  ordinarily,  stood  far 
in  advance  of  his  contemporaries,  for  he  had  never  fos- 
tered the  growth  of  a bitter  spirit  of  partisanship  within 
himself,  althongh  he  was  staunchly  Democratic  in  the 
light  of  then-existent  issues.  He  was  likewise  outside 
the  jiale  of  those  who  were  intensely  absorbed  in  sec- 
tional prejudices  so  rife  at  that  period.  Thei  efore,  his 
position  was  nnitpie,  since  he  stood  among  a few  who 
could  think  for  themselves  without  being  deterred  by 
the  associations  of  the  Civil  War. 

However,  he  had  nothing  in  common  with  any  ad 
miuistrative  or  legislative  measure  depriving  or  tend- 
ing to  deprive  any  .American  citizen  of  vested  rights,  so 
his  sympathies  were  naturally  with  the  prominent 
Democrats,  who  were  subjected  to  the  tyranny  of  Ee- 
publican  boards  of  registration.  He  made  many  suc- 
cessful defenses  of  leading  Democratic  citizens  in  the 
courts  of  Pheljts,  Laclede,  and  adjoining  counties  and 
before  the  boards  of  registration. 

Bland's  inherent  nature  did  not  jiermit  him  to  falter 
in  The  assertion  of  conviction,  hence  his  boldness  and 
fearlessness  in  his  exposures  and  denunciations  of  the 


1]8 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


nefarious  methods  then  resorted  to  by  Republican 
office-holders  to  disfranchise  and  oppress  Democrats 
were  teri-ifying  to  the  opposition,  and  sources  of  dis- 
comfiture to  those  of  the  Republicans  who  were  most 
radical  in  their  abuse  and  oppression  of  the  Democratic 
voter.  At  the  same  time,  the  trials  through  which  the 
Democi  ats  of  that  section  passed  in  those  days  strength- 
ened their  appreciation  of  a powerful  friend,  and  when 
Dland  came  more  than  once  to  the  bold,  fearless  defense 
of  their  privileges,  they  grew  to  know  him  as  a strong, 
safe,  fearless,  and  trustworthy  leader.  He  was  en- 
deared to  many  because  of  his  action  in  cases  of  per- 
sonal persecution,  this  endearment  spreading  until  he 
became  one  of  the  most  prominent  figures  before  the 
people  of  that  district  of  Missouri. 

However,  throughout  the  time  in  which  Bland  lived 
in  private  life  in  Lebanon  before  his  election  to  Con- 
gress, his  modesty  and  retiring  disposition  were  sources 
of  some  regret  to  the  more  eager  of  his  friends,  who 
longed  to  push  him  into  greater  prominence  and  high 
places  in  the  ranks  of  the  party.  He  displayed  strong 
disinclination  toward  assuming  the  role  so  many  of  his 
friends  sought  to  force  upon  him;  apparently  he  had  no 
desire  save  to  make  a success  of  his  profession,  in 
fiirtiierance  of  which  desire  he  spent  his  time  in  study 
and  careful  preparation.  He  soon  became  recognized  in 
the  counties  in  which  he  had  an  acquaintance  worthy 
of  count,  as  a conservative,  thoughtful,  and  conscien- 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


119 


tious  advocate  at  the  bar;  a lawyer  of  ability,  perse- 
verance, and  determination.  This  recognition  came  de- 
spite Mr.  Bland’s  unobtrusive  manners,  and  was  purely 
the  result  of  general  observation  of  the  man.  It  is 
noticeable  that  the  fame  and  honors  he  received  in  life 
were  all  forthcoming  because  of  a recognition  of  ability, 
without  any  personal  advertising  or  the  organization  of 
a press  bureau. 

The  campaign  of  1872  came  on  and  partisan  rivalry 
was  great.  The  interest  in  the  campaign  began  very 
early,  and  the  friends  of  Mr.  Bland,  aijpreciating  his 
ability  and  sterling  integrity,  were  anxious  that  he 
should  run  for  Congress,  in  what  was  then  the  Fifth 
District. 

This  district,  as  then  constituted,  was  a veritable 
empire,  comprising  Laclede,  Pulaski,  Phelps,  Crawford, 
Franklin,  Jefferson,  Dent,  Texas,  Wright,  Ozark,  Doug- 
lass, Howell,  Shaimon,  and  Oregon  Counties,  and  only 
two  county  seats  in  the  entire  district  could  at  that 
time  be  reached  by  railroad. 

Bland’s  acquaintance  in  the  majority  of  the  covinties 
of  the  district  was  very  slight,  he  being  scarcely  known 
at  all  in  certain  of  the  counties,  and,  not  having  any 
ambition  to  become  a congressman,  he  scoffed  at  the 
enthusiasm  displayed  by  his  friends.  He  did  not  be- 
lieve he  could  be  nominated,  and,  in  the  second  place, 
the  election  of  one  of  his  political  faith  was  very  doubt- 
ful, as  the  Republican  nominee  had  been  elected  in  1870 
by  over  4,000  majority. 


120 


FiVE  /'■1J/OC7S'  MISSOURI  AES. 


The  eiithiisiasi  ic  fneiids  persisted,  however,  iu  their 
pleadings  and  iirgings,  but  only  in  vain.  At  last  a 
foreefnl  Irishman,  Harrison  Attaway,  prominent  in 
Democratic-  jtolilics  in  Laclede  Comity,  ‘‘stole  a march" 
on  the  fill  m e congressman  and  got  Bland’s  name  before 
I he  ]>eople  in  snch  a way  that  he  could  not  very  well 
longer  refuse. 

In  ihe  midst  of  the  discussion  of  Bland’s  proposed 
candidacy.  Bland  and  the  editor  of  the  local  paper  at 
Lelianon  went  away  from  Lebanon,  going  to  Dallas 
County  to  attend  court,  intending  to  be  gone  for  about 
a.  fortnight.  A bl  ight  young  newspaper  man,  the  local 
editor,  was  left  at  home  to  get  out  the  paper  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  chief.  ..Attaway,  a short  while  before  the 
I'aper  went  to  press,  during  the  tirst  week  of  Bland’s 
absence,  i-ushed  into  the  office  of  the  iiajier  and  present- 
ed a strongly-framed  and  skillfully-written  article  nom- 
inating Kichard  Barks  Bland  for  Congrc^ss.  The  local 
editor  was  induced  to  open  the  forms,  already  locked 
and  ready  for  ])i-ess,  and  insert  the  editorial,  which 
came  out  and  brought  Bland’s  name  ]iromineutly  before 
the  peojile  of  the  district  as  Laclcffie  County’s  candidate 
for  Congress. 

t\'hen  Mr.  Bland  came  home,  he  again  objected  vig- 
oiously,  but  iinally  consented  to  the  use  of  his  name 
in  what  he  deemed  a hojteless  race.  He  wrote  to  his 
brother  at  Kolia,  however,  before  consenting,  and  urged 
him  to  become  a candidate,  saying,  “I  do  not  think  I 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


121 


can  secure  tlie  uoiniuatioii,  even  if  I wanted  id,  so  would 
like  to  see  yon  win.'’  The  brother  refused  to  consider 
the  idea  and  joined  in  urging  Mr.  llland  to  become  a 
candidate. 

The  district  was  so  strongly  Kei)ublican  that  the 
contest  for  the  Democratic  m»mination  would  liave  had 
little  of  interest  in  it  had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that 
there  were  several  thousand  Liberal  Kepublicans, 
whose  assistance  was  counted  upon  in  defeating  tln^ 
regular  Republican  nominee  and  in  the  election  of  the 
Democratic  nominee.  Hon.  E.  A.  Seay  of  Phelps,  T.  'W'. 
Crews  of  Franklin,  John  Hyer  of  Dent,  and  Moi-se  of 
Jett'erson  County,  were  all  candidates  l)efore  the  liemo- 
crats  of  the  district,  but  the  race  was  first  conceded  to 
be  between  Bland  of  Laclede  and  CreAvs  of  Franklin. 
Seay  was  a popular  candidate,  hoAvever,  as  he  had  re- 
sided in  the  district  from  boj'hood,  and  had,  for  ovm- 
twenty  years,  practiced  law  in  all  parts  of  .the  district, 
and  was  able,  adroit,  and  personall.v  very  popular. 

When  the  convention  met  at  St.  James,  in  rhelj)S 
County,  it  was  found  that  some  of  the  counties  had  both 
Democratic  and  Liberal  delegations  awaiting  admis- 
sion into  the  convention,  the  latter  demanding  seats 
and  votes.  After  a heated  controvers.y,  l»ecause  of  fear 
of  losing  the  supjiort  of  the  Liberals  in  the  general  elec- 
tion, the  delegates  Avere  admitted  to  seats.  The  Liberal 
delegates  wei“e  all  for  Seay,  and  it  was  at  once  assumed 


122 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


that  their  admission  would  residt  in  strengthenins: 
Seay’s  candidacy". 

Another  question  came  up  before  the  convention 
which  had  largely  to  do  with  the  final  action  of  the 
convention.  It  was  the  right  of  a proxy  in  the  conven- 
tion to  represent  and  cast  the  full  vote  of  two  counties, 
when  neither  of  the  counties  had  resident  delegjites 
present.  The  proxy  held  duly  executed  and  formal  cre- 
dentials, hut  was  not  a resident  of  either  county  for 
which  he  held  proxy.  After  a spirited  contest,  The  con- 
vention admitted  the  proxy  to  full  rights,  and,  as  both 
counties  had  instructed  for  Bland,  this  added  material- 
ly to  his  strength.  Discontent  was  manifested  at  this 
action,  which  permitted  a delegate  to  sit  and  vote  in  the 
convention  representing  counties  in  which  he  did  noi 
reside. 

Bland  heard  of  this  discontent,  and,  with  wondrous 
magnanimity,  sent  for  Ihe  proxy,  directing  him  to  ap- 
j^ear  before  the  convention  and  move  a reconsideration 
of  the  vote  whereby  he  was  authorized  to  represent  tin* 
counties  for  which  he  held  ])roxies.  Mr.  Bland  said; 
“State  that  I requested  you  to  do  it,  and  tell  the  conven- 
tion that  I do  not  want  to  succeed  or  secure  this  nomi- 
nation by  any  means  subject  to  the  least  objection  as 
to  fairness.'’ 

The  proxy  did  so,  tr>  the  complete  amazement  of  tin' 
convention,  and  the  action  he  had  requested  was  taken. 
By  Bland’s  magnanimous  settlement  of  a question  bid 


niCHAlW  P.  BLAND.  123 

diug  fair  to  create  lack  of  harmony,  he  lost  the  votes  of 
these  two  counties  and  won  the  nomination.  The  con- 
vention deliberated  only  a short  while.  They  were  so 
impressed  with  the  character  of  the  man  who  had 
scorned  to  profit  by  a political  trick  that  they  made 
him  their  candidate  for  Congress.  His  nomination  was 
a surprise  to  his  opponents,  but  was  eminently  satisfac- 
tory to  the  strongest  and  ablest  men  of  the  party,  who 
went  to  work  and  traveled  the  great  district  over  at 
their  own  expense  in  Bland’s  interest  and  never  ceased 
their  efforts  until  they  had  defeated  Colonel  A.  J.  Seay, 
who  was  afterward  Governor  of  Oklahoma  Territory 
under  President  Harrison,  in  a district  nominally  R(>- 
publican,  Mr.  Bland’s  majority  being  800. 

In  1873,  the  year  following  his  election  to  Congress, 
Mr.  Bland  was  married  to  Miss  Virginia  "Elizabeth 
Mitchell,  daughter  of  General  E.  Y.  Mitchell,  of  Eolla, 
Mo.  He  had  first  met  Miss  Mitchell  the  mouth  of  his 
return  from  the  West,  had  loved  her,  had  proposed  mar- 
riage to  her,  and  won  the  consent  of  her  father.  The 
union  of  Mr.  Bland  and  Miss  Mitchell  was  richly  blessed 
and  proved  to  be  one  of  the  happiest  conceivable. 

The  House  of  the  Forty-third  Congress,  to  which 
Richard  Parks  Bland  was  elected,  was  the  last  Repub- 
lican House  of  Representatives  for  several  years.  It 
was  presided  over  by  James  G.  Blaine  and  met  in  the 
most  exciting  sessions  held  in  the  ten  years  immediate- 
ly following  the  close  of  the  Rebellion.  The  Forty-third 


124 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Coiiffrt'ss  became  infamous  in  history  under  the  name 
of  tlie  “Halarj-grab”  and  “Back-i)ay’'  Congress.  The 
members  not  only  increased  their  own  salaries  to 
|7,500  a year,  but  also,  at  the  very  close  of  the  session, 
voted  themselves  back  pay  of  $5,000,  making  the  salary- 
grab  retroactive. 

Two  of  the  most  memorable  discussions  of  issues 
growing  out  of  the  Civil  War  occurred  in  this  Congress. 
The  famous  Civil  Bights  Bill  was  discussed  with  more 
than  ordinary  tire  on  the  ])a.rt  of  the  legislators.  The 
Senate  (Oiamber  rang  with  the  elocpient  and  fierv  de- 
nunciations of  “Southern  policies  and  Southern  intimi- 
dation,” by  nieii  like  Logan,  Conkling,  Oglesby,  and 
Hannibal  Hamlin,  while  “Old  Roman”  Thurman’s 
X)leading  voice,  with  the  stern  logic  of  Carl  Schurz  and 
the  words  of  the  Reconstruction  senators,  half  plead- 
ing and  half  deflant,  were  heard  from  the  other  side  of 
the  Chamber. 

The  personnel  of  the  House  in  which  Bland  served 
his  first  term  included  men  whose  names  are  insepa 
rably  linked  with  the  history  of  the  time;  George  F. 
Hoar  and  Benjamin  F.  Butler,  of  Massachusetts;  James 
G.  Blaine  and  Eugene  Hale,  of  Maine;  “Sunset”  Cox, 
of  New  York;  S.  J.  Randall  and  W.  I).  Kelly,  of  Penn 
sylvania;  Lucius  (J.  C.  Lamar,  of  Mississippi;  and 
score's  more  of  tlu*  nation's  foremost  men  sat  in  this 
Congress,  in  which  Mr.  Bland,  at  the  age  o*f  forty-three, 
began  his  congressional  career,  -which  extends,  broken 


RICHARD  P.  BLARD. 


125 


ouly  for  two  years,  from  that  time  to  his  death,  June  15, 
1899. 

The  Missouri  delegation  in  this  session  comprised 
Edwin  O.  Staunard,  Erastus  Wells,  William  H.  Stone, 
Ifobert  A.  Hatcher,  Aylett  H.  Buckner,  Thomas  T. 
Crittenden,  x^bram  Comingo,  Isaac  C.  Parker,  Ira  B. 
Hyde,  John  B.  Clark,  Jr.,  and  Mr.  Bland. 

During  the  first  session  of  this  Congress  the  bill  for 
the  increase  of  the  greenback  circulation  from  about 
fJ75,000,0()0  to  1100,000,009  was  passed  by  the  House 
and  the  Senate  and  vetoed  by  President  Grant.  Mr. 
Bland  made  several  speeches  in  advocacy  of  this  in- 
crease or  “expansion”  of  the  currency,  as  it  was  called. 
He  opposed,  in  this  session  and  in  this  debate  on  the 
“currency  expansion"  bill,  the  national-banking  sys- 
tem, which  he  bitterly  antagonized  throughout  his  life. 
These  speeches  on  the  financial  questions  of  the  period 
were  the  first  of  any  length  made  by  him  in  Congress. 

Mr.  Bland  was  accorded  a high  position  in  this  Con- 
gress as  a man  of  free  thought  and  independent  action. 
His  bold  and  open  fight  upon  an  iniquitous  banking 
system  was  begun  in  this  session,  and  many  of  his  col- 
leagues date  the  beginning  of  their  consideration  of 
these  questions  from  the  speeches  made  by  Bland.  He 
introduced  into  this  Congress  a number  of  important 
measures  concerning  the  currency  and  national  bank 
issues,  relating  to  “greenbacks,”  or  legal-tender  notes, 
and  also  some  important  measures  concerning  the 


1-26 


PIVlil  FAM0V8  MI880V1UAN8. 


tariff,  in  relation  to  which  his  whole  career  has  an 
interesting  bearing. 

Mr.  Bland  opposed  the  “salary-grab”  and  “back- 
pay” measures  as  vigorously  as  the  promoters  of  these 
schemes  would  permit,  they  controlling  the  House  and 
debate  upon  these  questions.  After  the  bills  were 
passed.  Bland  was  presented  a warrant  for  |5,000, 
drawn  in  pursuance  of  these  infamous  measures;  how- 
ever, he  refused  to  accept  it  and  the  warrant  was  put 
to  his  credit  in  the  United  States  Treasury,  but  was 
never  drawn  by  him.  He  was  the  only  member  of  the 
House  of  Representatives  who  finally  failed  to  accept 
this  money.  A number  refused  to  take  the  warrants  at 
the  time,  but  before  the  requisite  year  had  expired  the 
last  of  them  had  di’awn  the  money. 

In  the  campaign  of  1874,  Mr.  Bland  was  again  op- 
posed by  Colonel  Seay  in  the  same  district,  being 
re-elected  by  a majority  of  2,.500.  This  was  the  second 
victory  Avon  by  him  in  this  Republican  district,  and 
never  again,  until  1894,  did  he  fail  to  receive  a comfort- 
able majority. 

The  House  of  the  Forty-fourth  Congress  was  the 
first  Democratic  House  of  Representatives  after  the 
Civil  War.  1874  had  proven  a year  for  Democratic 
triumphs  everywhere,  the  unsavory  record  of  the  last 
Republican  Congress  being  lai'gely  responsible  for  the 
defeats  which  overtook  the  party  in  1874.  The  sitting 
of  this  Congress  is  one  of  the  most  momentous  events 


RIG  HARD  P.  BLAND. 


127 


in  economic  history,  for  it  was  here  that  the  prelim- 
inary skirmishes  in  the  “battle  of  the  standards”  were 
witnessed.  A warfare  was  begun  by  Eichai’d  Pai*ks 
Bland  in  this  Congress,  which  stretches  over  three  dec- 
ades following,  and  “is  not  yet  terminated.  A new  is- 
sue was  raised  in  the  first  session  of  this  Congress, 
which  has  been  responsible  in  its  fullest  development 
for  the  re-alignment  of  the  American  people,  for  a di- 
vision upon  a new  line.  The  study  and  discussion 
which  follows  in  the  trail  of  this  Congress  touches 
every  fireside  in  the  land,  and  is  responsible  for  the  de- 
velopment of  a higher  standard  of  general  intelligence 
upon  financial  questions  than  exists  in  any  other 
country  on  the  globe. 

It  was  in  this  session  that  the  full  meaning  of  the 
revision  of  the  coinage  laws,  made  in  1873,  was  dis- 
covered. It  was  openly  charged  in  the  Halls  of  Con- 
gress that  there  was  then  no  authority  for  the  coinage 
of  silver  dollars.  The  declaration  occasioned  great 
astonishment  among  the  most  of  the  members,  many 
of  whom  had  unwittingly  voted  for  the  measure  which 
changed  the  monetary  standard  of  the  United  States. 

Speaker  Kerr,  who  was  from  Indiana,  appointed 
Mr.  Bland  chairman  of  the  House  Committee  on  Mines 
a.nd  Mining.  This  committee  hitherto  had  never  in 
any  way  attracted  public  attention,  as  the  duties  per- 
formed by  it  up  to  that  time  had  been  exclusively  con- 
fined to  detail  and  largely  to  private  claims  in  relation 
—9— 


128 


rr\Ui  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


to  mining  affaii's.  From  the  hour,  however,  that 
Richard  Parks  Bland  became  chairman,  it  took  its 
stand  as  one  of  tlie  most  important  committees  in  the 
House  and  became  of  national  consequence  because  of 
Ihe  momcmtous  legislation  with  which  Bland  brought 
it  face  fo  face. 

In  Ihe  House,  Mr.  Bland  was  the  first  to  dwell  at 
any  length  u])on  the  fnll  ett'ect  of  the  act  of  ’73.  Sen- 
atoi'  Bogy,  of  Missouri,  was  the  first  senator  to  formal- 
ly charge  that  there  existed  no  silver  dollar  authorized 
by  law.  In  the  discussion  of  a bill  to  restore  legal- 
tender  (jualities  to  silver  an  interesting  colloquy  took 
])lace  on  March  30,  1'87(J,  during  the  first  session  of  the 
Forty-Fourth  (’ongress,  four  days  liefore  Mr.  Bland  re- 
])orted  from  the  ('ommittee  on  Mines  and  Mining  a bill 
])roviding  substantially  for  the  free  and  unlimited  coin- 
age of  silvei'.  Senator  Bogy,  in  the  course  of  his  speecli, 
charged  that  the  coinage  act  of  1873  demonetized 
silvei-.  He  declared  that  there  was  no  law  fixing  the 
relative  Auilue  of  silver  and  gold,  and  no  provision  for 
the  coinage  of  the-silver  dollar  at  all.  Before  Mr.  Bogy 
had  completed  his  speech.  Senator  Colliding,  of  New 
York,  arose  and  asked  him  a question  Avhich  indicated 
the  perplexity  which  prevailed  among  members  of  Con- 
gress and  senators  in  regard  to  the  exact  situation. 
Mr.  Conkling  asked:  “Will  the  senator  allow  me  to 

ask  him  or  some  other  senator  a (jiiestioii?  Is  it  true 
Hiat  there  is  now  by  law  no  American  dollar;  and  if  so, 


inVlIAUD  F.  JiLAND. 


129 


is  it  true  that  the  elt'ect  of  this  bill  is  to  make  half- 
dollars  and  (inarter-dollars  the  only  silver  coin  Avhich 
can  be  used  as  a legal  tender?” 

Senator  Sherman,  bj"  this  time  on  his  feet,  hastened 
to  reply:  “I  will  answer  the  senator  from  New  York  by 
saying  that  since  the  law'  of  1853  the  use  of  the  silver 
wdiole  dollar  has  been  discontinued  and  none  has  been 
issued.  That  has  been  so  since  1853.” 

Senator  Conkling  persisted  and  again  asked:  "Is 

there  power  to  issue  it?” 

Mr.  Sherman  replied:  "There  is  no  power  and  has 

been  none.” 

Senator  Bogy  quickly  rejoined:  "The  power  existi'd 
from  1853  to  1873;  but  since  1873  I think  there  has  been 
no  power.” 

The  debate  proceeded  until  Senator  Jones,  of  Nc*- 
vada.,  arose  and  answered  Mi-.  Sherman's  statement 
that  the  silver  dollar  had  not  been  issued  from  1853,  by 
saying  that  silver  was  at  a premium  at  the  then  estab- 
lished rate  of  gold,  and  nobody  had  any  inducement  to 
coin  silver.  “The  lawq  however,”  he  said,  “authorized 
the  coinage  of  the  silver  dollar  then,  and  it  w-as  never 
demonetized  until  February,  1873;  but  it  needed  no 
law-  to  prevent  people  from  coining  such  a dollar  for 
use  in  business,  as  there  w-as  another  dollar  to  be  got 
for  three  or  four  per  cent  cheaper.” 

This  debate  w-as  the  inception  of  the  tight  for  silver 
in  the  Senate  and  w-as  precipitated  by  Mr.  Bland's  col- 


nVH  FAMOUS  mHFOUniA'NH. 


]3U 

league,  Senaloi-  IJogT.  It  elicited  much  comment. 
Wednesday  moi  ning,  May  .3,  1876,  Mr.  Bland  brought 
tlie  question  formally  before  fhe  House,  and  in  realify 
1)  f^re  Ihe  people,  by  reporting,  as  chairman  of  the  Com- 
mittee on  Mines  and  Mining,  a substitute  for  House 
Bill  No.  2715,  a bill  (H.  R.  3363)  to  utilize  the  product 
of  the  gold  and  silver  mines  of  the  United  States.  It 
was  read  the  first  and  second  times,  recommitted  and 
ordered  to  be  printed.  June  3d,  Mr.  Bland  reported 
11.  R.  3635  as  a substitute  for  the  former  bill. 

He  made  repeated  efforts  to  bring  the  bill  up  for 
consideration,  but  failed.  The  opjponeuts  were  few  in 
number,  but  so  shrewdly  dilatory  that  they  put  the  bill 
off  from  lime  to  time,  opposing  its  advance  from  step  to 
step. 

On  the  first  day  of  August,  Mr.  Bland  asked  con- 
sideration for  the  bill,  and  to  make  the  situation  more 
critical  for  the  opponents,  he  had  the  clerk  read  com- 
parative sectiom  o1  the  ReAused  St:\tnt(  s of  the  United 
States,  showing  that  in  1869  silver  Avas  recognized  as 
full  legal  tender,  and  then,  by  the  provisions  of  the  act 
of  1873,  it  was  demonetized.  Mr.  Bland  had  these  sec- 
tions read  for  the  purpose  of  refuting  the  claim  made 
that  there  existed  no  extraordinary  condition  and  that 
the  act  of  1873  merely  pursued  the  condition  prevailing 
since  the  passage  of  the  act  of  ’53. 

August  2d,  Mr.  Bland  again  demanded  consideration 
of  his  bill,  declaring:  ‘‘The  bill  that  demonetized 


EICUARD  F.  BLAND. 


131 


silver  in  this  country  and  perpetrated  an  injustice  and 
fraud  upon  the  people  was  passed  through  this  House 
without  even  being  read,  in  spite  of  the  demand  of  the 
honorable  gentleman  at  present  serving  as  Speaker  of 
the  House  [Mr.  Kerr]  for  the  reading  of  that  bill.  It 
was  passed  surreptitiously  and  without  discussion,  and 
was  one  of  the  grossest  measures  of  injustice  ever  in- 
llicted  upon  any  people.  Now,  this  bill  simply  aims  to 
restore  the  currency  of  this  country  which  existed  at 
that  time;  yet  we  hear  objections  on  this  floor,  some- 
times in  the  form  of  demands  for  debate,  sometimes  in 
the  form  of  opposition  to  debate.” 

The  country  was  beginning  to  feel  an  interest  in  the 
scenes  almost  daily  occurring  in  the  House,  in  which 
]\Ir.  Bland  was  vehemently  denouncing  the  filibustering 
methods  employed  to  defeat  his  bill.  It  seemed  ap- 
parent that  if  the  bill  were  ever  brought  before  the 
House,  it  would  pass. 

On  August  5th,  one  of  the  most  exciting  days  in  the 
history  of  flnaneial  discussions  in  Congress,  Mr.  Hale, 
of  Maine,  led  off  with  a dilatory  plea  when  the  Bland 
Bill  was  called  up.  Mr.  Bland  arose  from  his  seat  and, 
with  the  thunderous  tones  which  characterized  him 
when  aroused  in  debate,  replied  in  a manner  that  oc- 
casioned one  of  the  most  stormy  scenes  witnessed  in 
file  entire  session. 

He  said:  "In  answer  to  the  geutb  man  fi  oui  Maine, 
] wish  to  say  tliftt  when  tips  inJug;tiQe  of  deinonetizing 


13-2 


FIVE  FAMOUH  MmmV]UAN><. 


silver  was  i)erpetrated,  filibustering  was  not  resorted  to. 
The  bill,  sir,  was  not  read  at  tliat  desk.  Gentlemen  who 
i-ejiresent  the  money  sharks  of  the  country  surrepti- 
tiously carried  the  bill  through  without  its  reading  at 
the  clerk’s  desk,  and  I would  be  pusillanimous  indeed 
to  giv(“  u])  because  I am  threatened  with  filibuster- 
ing jierforniances.  Let  them  fililmster  and  take  the 
conse(  juences.’’ 

The  House  was  immediately  in  an  u]>roar;  several 
members  clamored  for  recognition;  cries  of  “Fraud!” 
wei(‘  heard,  as  well  as  here  and  there  the  voice  of  some 
member  seeking  to  deny  Mr.  Bland’s  statement. 
Thi-ough  it  all  he  stood  resolute,  and  when  the  bill  went 
over,  he  manifested  no  discouragement,  but,  confident 
tliat  he  was  backed  by  a majority  of  the  members  of  the 
House,  he  had  no  fear  in  renewing  his  elforts. 

This  scene  had  scarcely  subsided  wlien  Mr.  Cox,  of 
New  York,  called  up  Gibson’s  resoluiion  for  the  appoinl- 
iiKuit  of  the  monetary  commission,  on  which  Mi’.  Bland 
laler  served.  In  the  course  of  Ihe  debate  on  this  sub 
ject,  the  (piestions  involved  in  Mr.  Bland’s  bill  were 
goiH*  over.  At  this  time  he  made  his  first  silver  sjieech 
of  any  length.  Among  other  things  he  said: 

“The  bill  I reported  is  a measure  in  the  interest  of 
Ihe  honest  yeomanry  of  this  country.  Here  is  a meas- 
ure ju’oposing  to  do  justice  to  whom’.’’ 

“To  the  toiling  millions  who  are  to-day  earning  their 
liread  jn  the  s>veni  of  their  fare;  it  is  a meitsnie  in  the 


HI  CHARD  r.  BLAND. 


133 


interests  of  the  poor  and  eommou  people  of  the  country, 
and  hence  it  excites  the  ojiposition  of  these  agents  of 
the  money  sharks  in  these  lobbies,  and  those  who  seem 
to  be  in  their  interest  upon  this  floor.  Because  a meas- 
ure is  for  once  reported  to  this  Congress,  that  has  with- 
in it  a provision  for  the  welfare  of  the  i)eo]de  of  the 
country  against  the  corrupt  legislation  that  has  gone 
on  here  for  the  last  sixteen  years  in  the  interest  of  the 
numeyed  lords,  it  is  here  denounced  as  full  of  rascali- 
ties, and  all  this  by  a party  that  had  perpetrated  these 
injustices  and  brought  corruption,  fraud,  injustice,  and 
dishonor  upon  the  country. 

“The  common  people  cannot  come  to  this  capital. 
They  are  not  here  in  your  lobby.  They  are  at  home, 
following  the  plow,  cultivating  the  soil,  or  working  in 
their  workshops.  It  is  the  silvern  and  golden  slippers 
of  the  money  kings,  the  bankers  and  flnanciers,  whose 
step  is  heard  in  the  lobbies,  and  these  rule  the  finances 
of  the  country.  They  aie  the  men  who  get  access  to 
your  committees,  and  have  ruled  and  controlled  the 
legislation  of  the  country  for  their  own  interests.  If 
the  constituents  of  those  who  are  opposing  this  measun^ 
could  look  dowm  from  the  galleries  upon  them,  they 
would  sink  in  their  seats  with  shame  for  the  course 
they  are  jmrsuing,  because  it  is  adverse  to  the  interests 
of  their  people.” 

Mr.  Kasson,  of  Iowa,  in  the  course  of  this  speech, 
challenged  tlie  stateineut  that  the  demouetizatiou  l>ill 


134 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


was  not  read  at  the  clerk’s  desk  upon  final  passage. 
This  brought  out  a famous  declaration  of  Mr.  Holman, 
of  Indiana,  who  was  renowned  in  years  afterward  as 
the  “watch  dog  of  the  Treasury.”  He  asserted  that  the 
bill  as  passed  was  never  read.  Mr.  Holman  declared 
that  he  himself  had  called  for  the  reading  of  the  bill, 
and  that  his  demand  had  been  evaded.  He  declared 
that  the  bill  was  passed  without  knowledge  by  the 
House  of  its  provisions,  especially  upon  those  relating 
to  matters  of  coinage.  Holman  then  had  extracts  read 
from  the  Congressional  Globe,  which  proved  that  the 
bill  was  not  read.  It  appeared  from  the  Globe  that  Mr. 
Hooper,  of  Massachusetts,  father  of  the  bill,  said  that 
the  bill  was  too  long  and  that  they  had  not  the  time. 
Mr.  Kerr  had  then  stated  that  he  wanted  the  House  to 
understand  that  an  efi'ort  was  being  made  to  pass  the 
bill  without  reading.  Hooper  had  then  made  a motion 
to  suspend  the  rales  and  dispense  with  the  reading  of 
Ihe  substitute,  which  was  passed.  The  reading  was 
Ihus  interrupted  and  never  completed.  Mr.  Holman 
1 hus  vindicated  Mr.  Bland’s  statements,  which  were  be- 
ginning to  be  felt  deeply  by  those  he  antagonized. 

The  charges  Mr.  Bland  made  were  repeated  during 
succeeding  sessions,  becoming  in  later  years  one  of  the 
most  vital  points  of  contention  between  Mr.  Bland’s  fol- 
lowers and  the  opposition.  However,  it  is  noticeable 
ihat  the  rejoinders  to  the  charges  were  never  success- 
fully^ supported,  especially  wbe»  any  member  of  the 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


135 


House  of  the  Forlj-seconcl  Congress,  not  interested  in 
the  disproval  of  the  charge,  was  present.  The  farther 
the  years  carried  the  question,  the  louder  became  the 
replies  to  Mr.  Bland’s  charges,  while  the  attempts  at 
refutation  were  but  faintly  made  when  he  thundered 
them  forth  for  the  first  time  in  July  and  August,  1870. 

On  August  15,  1870,  in  the  midst  of  the  renowned 
Hayes-Tilden  campaign,  which  had  such  a stirring 
termination.  Congress  adjourned  without  any  action. 
Early  in  the  second  session  the  bill  was  passed  by  the 
House,  and  was  referred  to  the  Senate  Committee  on 
Finance,  placed  on  the  calendar,  but  smothei'ed  out  of 
existence  by  Senator  Sherman,  who  was  chairman  of 
that  committee. 

Thus  ends  the  history  of  Mr.  Bland’s  first  attempts 
to  secure  the  remonetization  of  silver.  From  the  time 
the  Democratic  House  passed  the  Bland  bill,  in  the 
winter  of  1877,  the  Democratic  party  stood  committed 
to  the  position  of  Mr.  Bland,  although  under  un-Demo 
cratic  influences  it  drifted  away  from  its  moorings  in 
the  latter  years  of  his  life,  returning,  however,  to  its 
original  position  in  1896,  largely  by  his  efforts  and  the 
skill  of  his  leadership. 

The  fight  Mr.  Bland  waged  against  the  odds  of 
wealth  and  political  i>ower  m this  session  has  but  one 
parallel  in  the  history  of  the  American  Congress,  out- 
side of  Mr.  Bland’s  later  life,  and  that  is  found  in  the 
iseries  of  hard  fights  and  renowned  forensic  and  parlia- 


136 


FIVK  FAMOUS  MIFHOVRIAAIF. 


mentary  duels  with  the  friends  of  the  United  States 
fhink,  conducted  by  Thomas  Hart  Benton,  the  Mis- 
sourian whose  mantle  in  history  properly  rests  upon 
Mr.  Bland.  Benton's  tight  for  the  vindication  of  An 
di'ew  Jackson  met  the  same  sort  of  opposition  from  the 
same  class  of  peoide  and  is  akin  in  history  to  the  war 
w;iged  against  legislative  injustice  by  Kichard  Parks 
Bland,  the  second  Missc»urian  to  tower  above  all  others 
in  coiitempoi  aneous  history.  Benton’s  sjieeches  were 
more  oi  nate,  more  ])erfect  from  the  rhetorician's  stand- 
point, yet  in  invective,  in  force,  in  ])ower,  in  bluntness 
W('ie  very  much  like  the  efforts  of  Bland,  which  as- 
tounded his  o|iponents  in  debate  and  made  them  to  fear 
ids  logic. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  TILDEN  - HAYES  COXTROVEHSY.  — THE 
MONETARY  COM3IISSION.— BLAND-ALLI- 
SON  ACT.— TARIFF  RECORDS.— 

THE  SILYER  CRT'SADE. 

The  campaign  of  L87(i  into  which  ^Ic.  Hland  entered 
spiritedly,  becoming  a candidate  for  re-election  to  Con- 
gress on  the  Democratic  ticket,  was  the  most  exciting 
campaign  of  the  seventies.  The  lines  were  mtt  near  so 
closely  drawn  upon  the  issues  of  the  Civil  tVar,  for  new 
questions  had  arisen  and  the  old  political  parties  were 
compelled  to  assert  tliemselves  thereon.  The  question 
of  llnaucial  policies  was  not  far  from  the  surface  in  the 
range  of  observation,  the  (tuestion  of  remonetization 
entering  largely  into  local  campaigns,  particularly  in 
^Vestern  congressional  fights.  A wave  of  poi)ular  sen 
timent  favoring  the  remonetization  measure  swept  over 
portions  of  the  country.  Mr.  Bland  brought  it  for  the 
tir.st  time  into  ^lissouri  jtolitics  and  the  begiuuing  of  a 
new  fight  for  the  white  metal  was  already  under  way. 
The  interest  felt,  especially  by  farmers  of  the  Western 
and  Middle  States,  was  not  to  be  ignored,  and  the  poli- 
ticians of  the  period  bore  it  carefully  in  mind,  though 
apparimtly  absorbed  in  other  issues,  inyolving  partisan 
and  |>ersonal  consideriitions.  The  far-siglited  feU  that 


138 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOI  IMANS. 


llie  determiiiatiou  of  Mr.  Bland  would  bring  the  ques- 
tion into  still  greater  prominence  in  future  sessions  of 
Congress.  He  was  assuredly  fearless  and  undoubtedly 
unswerving  and  was  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  evasion 
of  the  question.  It  was  known  that  he  would  force  it, 
and  immediately  after  the  campaign  of  ISTti  had  sub- 
sided and  the  excitement  had  about  died  away,  plans 
were  being  laid  to  compromise  with  the  situation  and 
endeavor  to  silence  the  bold,  candid  member  from 
Missouri. 

The  November  election,  which,  it  had  been  vainly 
hoped,  would  appease  the  intense  partisan  rivalry,  in- 
stead brought  one  of  the  most  momentous  (piestions 
which  ever  confronted  the  American  people.  The 
gravest  possible  situation  was  faced,  while  the  country 
was  a seething  vortex  of  hatred  and  partisan  clamoring. 

The  second  session  of  the  Forty-fourth  Congress 
met  on  December  5,  1870,  and  great  danger  was  felt 
would  abound  in  the  approaching  electoral  count. 
Neither  party  would  consent  to  allowing  a revision  of 
the  joint  rules  governing  the  count.  The  House,  which 
was  Democratic,  feared  to  permit  the  Vice-President  to 
open  and  announce  the  electoral  returns,  on  account  of 
I he  contests  in  several  States,  the  party  leaders  fearing 
that  the  Vice-President  would  declare  Hayes  elected, 
while  the  Senate  insisted  that  its  right  was  to  open  the 
ballots  and  announce  the  result. 


RICHARD  P.  BLARD. 


139 


Amid  intense  excitement,  conferences  began  be- 
tween the  Repnblicans  and  Democrats  to  discuss  the 
situation,  and  to  consider  Senator  Conkling’s  proposed 
Electoral  Commission  Bill.  The  conference  resulted 
favorably  to  the  measure,  and  it  was  passed  in  the 
Senate  by  a vote  of  47  to  17 ; in  the  House  by  a vote  of 
191  to  80. 

Mr.  Bland  was  earnestly  and  persistently  opposed 
to  this  compromise  measure,  and  was  one  of  a few 
Democratic  members  of  the  House  who  ignored  the  ad- 
vice of  party  leaders  and  voted  against  the  measure. 
He  did  so  after  the  Missouri  delegation  had  caucused 
and  decided  to  support  it. 

Mr.  Bland’s  protests  were  long  and  continued  dur- 
ing the  discnssion_^of  the  proposition.  He  gave  as  his 
reasons  for  this  position,  first,  that  the  Constitution  had 
reposed  upon  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives 
the  duty  of  declaring  who  had  been  elected  President, 
and  that  the  Constitution  had  not  given  power  to  Con- 
gress to  delegate  this  authority  to  the  Supreme  Court 
or  any  other  body  on  earth.  He  repeatedly  wmrned 
the  Democrats  of  Congress  that  the  creation  of  the 
Electoral  Commission  would  result  in  cheating  Mr. 
Tilden  out  of  the  office  of  President,  to  which  Mr.  Bland 
believed  he  had  been  elected  by  a majority  vote  of  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  in  full  compliance  with 
and  conformity  to  the  terms  and  provisions  of  the  Con- 
stitution. Mr.  Bland  considered  the  compromise  as 


140 


/■7  17v’  /''.1.170?7.S'  .V/,S'.S'01jT/.lA7s'. 


an  iiifaiiious  measure,  eontroveiiiiig  the  Constitution 
itself.  H('  ridienled  the  fears  out  of  wliieh  the  Coin- 
inission  a.i-ose,  and  stood  firm  to  tlie  end  in  his  opposi- 
tion to  this  plan,  creating  a new  bod.y,  to  wliicli 
was  delegated  I lie  settlement  of  a ,(]nestion  for  the 
arhil lament  of  which  the  Constitution  of  the  Ignited 
States  had  jdainly  provided. 

During  this  Congress,  the  act  wdiich  authorized  the 
famous  Silver  Commission  was  passed,  and  by  virtue 
of  its  jirovisions.  Senators  Jones  of  Nevada,  Ifoutw'ell 
of  .Massachusetts,  and  Bogy  of  Missouri,  and  Represent- 
atives Bland  of  Missouri,  Cihson  of  Louisiana.,  and  Wil- 
lard of  Michigan,  were  a]i]iointed  as  a commission  to 
make  an  examination  of  the  silver  ipiestion,  which  was 
done.  iMr.  Bland  was  one  of  the  most  active  workers 
on  the  ( 'ommission  and  the  report  is  chiefly  his  work. 
This  report  is  om*  of  the  most  exliaustive  reviews  of  an 
economic  ipiestion  ever  made  hy  a commission  of  Con- 
gri*ss,  and  ranks  among  the  highest  and  best  authori- 
ties on  the  Ipiestion. 

The  report  has  been  translated  into  almost  every 
civilized  tongue  and  is  found  in  the  archives  and  libra- 
ries of  almost  every  government  on  earth.  Every  eco- 
nomic student  of  the  period  deemed  his  stock  of  avail 
able  information  incomjdete  without  a copy  of  this  re- 
jtoi  t,  for  which  there  has  been  such  a demand  that  there 
is  not  a,  copy  to  be  found  for  sale,  even  at  exorbitant 
tigiires,  at  any  ]dace  in  the  world. 


mCEATiD  P.  BLAXI). 


141 


It  is  one  of  the  undying  nionnments  to  the  research 
of  Mr.  Bliind,  and  coinniemorates  the  great  study  he 
made  of  one  of  the  greatest  political  questions  that 
ever  vexed  a congress  or  a people. 

Mr.  Bland  had  been  re-elected  to  the  Fortj’-tifth 
Congress,  in  which  he  renewed  his  famous  tight  for  the 
white  metal;  this  session  with  opposition  scarcely  so 
pronounced  or  so  loud.  The  firm  judgment  of  the  people 
of  the  country  seemed  to  be  that  silver  should  be  re- 
stored to  its  old  place,  or  at  least  be  re-endowed  with 
legal-tender  (jualities;  therefore,  the  inembers  of  Con- 
gress were  fearful  of  the  people. 

This  Congress  witnessed  scenes  in  its  halls  which 
often  rose  out  of  the  mists  of  history  to  confound  cer- 
tain colleagues  of  Mr.  Bland  who  in  after  years  de- 
serted positions  they  took  in  this  Congress.  The  House 
passed  the  silver  bill  introduced  by  Mr.  Bland,  provid- 
ing for  the  free  and  unlimited  coinage  of  silver.  Mr. 
Bland,  with  the  tidelity  to  purpose  and  the  persistency 
which  marked  his  support  or  opposition  all  through 
life,  had  waged  a faithful  warfare  and  was  now  about 
to  be  rewarded  with  success.  The  Senate  Avas  afraid 
to  pass  the  bill  with  the  free  coinage  features,  so  an 
ainembnent  ottered  by  Senator  Allison  was  adopted. 
This  amendment,  Avhile  striking  out  the  free  coinage 
provisions  of  the  Bland  Bill,  provided  for  the  ])urchase 
of  silver  bullion  in  (pmutities  not  less  than  f2,0()0,00() 
and  not  more  than  |I, 000,000  a month,  to  be  coined  into 


142 


nVE  FAMOUS  MISSOVlllANS. 


silver  dollars  as  fast  as  purcliased.  The  bill  also  re- 
stored silver’s  legal  tender  powers.  It  not  being  pos- 
sible to  secure  a better  bill  at  that  time,'  the  House 
agreed  to  the  amendment,  and,  so  amended,  the  bill 
went  to  the  President,  who  promptly  vetoed  it.  Thus, 
on  the  28th  of  February,  1878,  five  years  and  sixteen 
days  after  the  demonetization  act  became  a law,  the 
House  and  Senate  passed,  over  the  veto  of  the  Pres- 
ident, a bill  which  controverted  the  provisions  of  the 
former  law,  and  the  first  step  was  taken  toward  the  re- 
habilitation of  the  white  metal.  It  was  then  the  only 
law  on  the  statutes  of  the  United  States  providing  for 
the  coinage  of  the  silver  dollar. 

Up  to  the  time  of  the  repeal  of  this  law,  by  the 
Sherman  law  of  1890,  about  |400, 000,000  had  been 
coined  and  added  to  the  currency  of  the  country.  The 
Bland-Allison  Act,  to  which  Mr.  Bland’s  name  is  given 
in  history,  therefore,  added  to  the  commerce  of  the 
United  States  fully  four-fifths  of  the  metallic  money  in 
constant,  everyday  use  by  the  plain  people  of  the  land. 
Those  same  silver  dollars  probably  constitute  one- 
third  of  the  gold  and  silver  money  in  existence  in  the 
United  States,  and,  according  to  the  estimates  of  the 
Bureau  of  the  Mint,  the  coinage  of  the  Bland-Allison 
Act  constitutes  one-twentieth  of  the  metallic  money  in 
existence  in  the  world. 

Mr.  Bland  will  therefore  be  remembered  in  history 
as  the  author  of  one  of  the  most  successful  coinage 
laws  ever  operating  in  the  United  States. 


BIOHARD  P.  BLAND. 


143 


It  would  be  doing  Mr.  Bland’s  memory  an  injustice 
to  assume  that  his  fame  is  chargeable  alone  to  his  pur- 
poseful advocacy  of  the  white  metal,  though  great  may 
be  his  preeminence  on  account  of  the  years  he  spent  in 
the  service  of  the  economic  idea  of  bimetallism.  It  is 
asserted  for  a fact  that  were  Mr.  Bland’s  record  on  the 
silver  question  to  be  blotted  from  memory,  and  his 
votes  and  speeches  on  this  subject  stricken  from  the 
record  of  his  life’s  service  in  Congress,  there  would  still 
remain*  enough  of  the  accomplishments  of  true  states- 
manship to  justify  the  position  he  holds  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world  at  the  present  time.  Because  of  his  personal 
integrity  alone,  he  might  be  famous,  disregarding  the 
application  of  that  spirit  of  integrity  to  the  silver  ques- 
tion, for  the  impress  such  a man  as  Bland  leaves  upon 
the  history  of  his  country,  by  a lifetime  spent  in  its 
service,  is  almost  beyond  the  estimation  of  those  who 
cannot  discern  the  full  extent  of  posterity’s  esteem. 

Mr.  Bland’s  record  for  usefulness  and  service  on 
any  public  question  arising  during  the  years  he  was  a 
member  of  the  American  Congress  is  unsurpassed  by 
any  Missourian  of  this  day  and  generation. 

During  the  sessions  of  Congress  ensuing  after  the 
passage  of  the  Bland-Allison  Act,  Mr.  Bland  held  his 
position  as  a leader  among  thoughtful  men,  regardless 
of  the  public  questions  arising.  In  the  Forty-sixth  Con- 
gress his  record  as  one  of  the  best  informed  advisers 
and  clearest  thinkers  in  the  matter  of  custom  duties 

—10— 


144 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


and  tariffs  was  established,  a record  which  he  bore  to 
his  death.  He  made  more  speeches  on  the  tariff  ques- 
tion while  he  was  in  Congress  than  William  R.  Morri- 
son himself,  who  was  known  as  the  most  prominent  sup- 
porter of  tariff  reform.  Mr.  Bland  introduced  and  ad- 
vocated during  his  career  more  measures  affecting  the 
tariff  than  did  Morrison  or  any  of  the  other  conspicuous 
advocates  of  tariff  reform. 

In  the  Fiftieth  Congress,  Roger  Q.  Mills  himself 
was  scarcely  more  active  and  prominent  in  the  support 
of  the  Mills  Bill  than  Mr.  Bland. 

lu  the  Fifty-first  Congress,  Mr.  Bland’s  opposition 
to  the  McKinley  Bill  was  pronounced.  Toward  the 
close  of  the  famous  debate  on  this  bill,  Mr.  Bland 
offered  an  amendment  which  fairly  took  away  the 
breath  of  the  Republican  members  of  the  House  and 
precipitated  one  of  the  most  exciting  scenes  ever  wit- 
nessed during  the  discussion  of  a tariff  measure.  The 
amendment  provided  that  all  articles  and  goods  pur- 
chased in  foreign  countries,  by  the  importation  to  those 
countries  of  American  farm  products,  and  obtained 
by  exchange  for  American^  farm  products,  should  be 
brought  into  the  United  States  free  of  duty.  When 
this  amendment  was  offered,  the  advocates  of  the  bill 
were  seized  with  consternation  when  they  contem- 
plated the  consequences  of  the  adoption  of  such  an  in- 
nocent-appearing amendment.  If  the  Bland  amend- 
ment should  be  adopted,  they  foresaw,  it  would  draw 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


145 


the  life  out  of  the  entire  McKinley  Bill  and  defeat  its 
purposes. 

The  organization  of  the  Eepublicans  in  the  Fifty- 
iirst  Congress  was  thorough,  yet  in  spite  of  this  thor- 
oughness it  required  every  effort  of  the  Republicans  to 
defeat  the  amendment.  When  the  roll-call  began,- 
couriers  were  sent  into  every  part  of  the  capital  to 
bring  in  absentees;  the  roll-call  was  hindered  as  much 
as  possible  by  the  Republican  leaders,  who  were 
aroused  to  the  sense  of  danger  the  McKinley  measure 
was  in;  and,  when  the  roll  had  been  completed,  and  it 
seemed  problematic  whether  the  result  was  favorable 
or  unfavorable  to  the  amendment,  so  close  was  the  vote, 
they  delayed  the  announcement  of  the  result  until  the 
absent  Republicans  could  be  brought  in.  At  last  it 
was  revealed  by  the  announcement  of  the  vote,  that  the 
amendment  had  been  defeated  by  only  four  or  five  votes. 

The  McKinley  tariff  law  was  never  in  such  great 
danger  during  the  entire  debate. 

Mr.  Bland  was  a leader  in  the  fioor  of  the  House  on 
the  question  of  the  improvement  of  Western  water- 
ways. His  opinions  on  this  subject  were  respected  and 
widely  quoted.  He  fought,  with  that  energy  which 
always  characterized  his  opposition,  the  infamous 
“Force  Bill.”  The  use  of  the  Federal  troops  at  the 
polls  he  always  opposed,  as  well  as  the  government  of 
the  American  people  by  the  injunctions  of  the  United 
States  Court,  which  he  deemed  a perversion  of  the 


146 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


spirit  of  the  Constitution  and  a violation  of  popular 
rights. 

He  opposed  the  passage  of  the  so-called  “Civil  Serv- 
ice La'vvs/’  believing  them  to  be  un-Democratic  and 
not  in  accord  with  the  principles  of  the  American 
government. 

It  is  noticeable  that  the  life  of  Mr.  Bland  has  been 
most  fruitful  in  the  acceptance  of  his  principles  by  the 
Democratic  party,  which  probably  owes  more  to  Bland 
for  its  present-day  principles  than  it  does  to  any  other 
man  of  his  time.  He  stood  throughout  life  so  firmly,  so 
faithfully  in  the  support  of  ideas  he  promulgated  as 
right  and  true,  that  the  Democratic  party  has  finally  ac- 
cepted them  as  inspirations.  Mr.  Bland  s life  is  re- 
sponsible largely  for  the  existence  of  the  Democratic 
party  as  an  organization. 

When  he  and  his  supporters  in  the  silver  crusade 
began  their  work,  the  Democratic  party,'  although 
scarcely  one  year  removed  from  the  greatest  victory  in 
its  post-bellum  history,  was  demoralized,  discouraged, 
disrupted,  and  torn  asunder  with  vital  differences.  Mr. 
Bland  began  the  renowned  fight  for  the  rehabilitation 
of  the  Democratic  party,  and  only  by  taking  the  firm 
stand  it  did  and  by  adopting  his  views  as  party  prin- 
ciples did  it  assume  proportions  of  a great  party,  after 
the  crushing  defeat  of  1894.  Mr.  Bland  stood  so  long 
upon  the  ramparts  of  Jeffersonian  Democracy,  fighting 
for  its  tenets,  that  at  last  he  forced  his  party  to  rally 


RICHARD  F.  BLAND. 


147 


around  the  standard  he  had  lifted  in  life,  and  to  return 
to  the  fundamental  party  principles. 


The  compromise  act  of  1878,  known  as  the  Bland- 
Allison  Act,  did  not  terminate  the  fight  for  the  fullest 
restoration  of  silver  to  coinage  privileges.  It  was 
practically  the  beginning  of  attempts  at  remedial 
legislation. 

During  the  years  intervening  between  the  Forty- 
Fifth  and  Forty-Ninth  Congresses,  the  forces  opposing 
]\Ir.  Bland  were  organizing,  developing  a'strength  they 
did  not  have  in  1878.  This  organization  culminated  in 
an  effort  to  repeal  the  famous  act  which  restored  sil- 
ver’s legal-tender  functions.  This  effort  was  made  in 
the  Foily-niuth  Congress,  but  Mr.  Bland  and  his  fol 
lowers  rose  supreme  to  the  hour’s  emergency  and  suc- 
ceeded in  defeating  these  efforts  to  overthrow  the  exist- 
ing ’coinage  system.  Mr.  Bland  mustered  to  his  sup- 
port in  this  fight  over  two-thirds  of  the  House  of 
Representatives. 

In  1890,  the  forces  of  silver  coinage  seemed  again 
about  to  win  a final  victory,  when  another  compromise 
measure  was  brought  out.  Senator  Sherman  gave  his 
name  to  a bill  which  repealed  the  Bland-Allison  Act 
and  substituted  a bill  with  different  provisions,  but 
still  authorizing  the  purchase  of  silver  bullion;  instead 
of  for  coinage  purposes,  however,  legal-tender  silver 


148 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIAFS. 


certificates  were  to  be  issued,  based  upon  the  bullion 
thus  purchased. 

The  Sherman  Act  was  unsatisfactory  to  the  advo- 
cates of  free  coinage  and  was  condemned  by  them  as  a 
makeshift.  Every  possible  effort  was  made  to  secure 
its  I’epeal,  by  substituting  for  it  a law  providing  for 
absolute  free-silver  coinage. 

The  Democratic  platform  of  1892,  upon  which 
Grover  Cleveland  was  elected  President  of  the  United 
States  for  the  second  time,  denounced  the  Sherman 
law  and  demanded  its  repeal.  This  declaration  was  so 
framed  that,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Eastern  advocates  of  the 
gold  standard,  it  committed  the  party  to  the  uncondi- 
tional repeal  of  the  law,  while  the  greater  part  of  the 
Western  Democracy  regarded  the  declaration  as  mean- 
ing that  the  party  would  stand  firmly  for  the  silver  and 
gold  coinage  of  the  Oonstitution.  Thus  arose  a contro- 
versy which  terminated  in  the  drawing  of  new  lines  of 
difference  in  the  Democratic  party. 

When  the  Fifty-third  Congress  was  elected,  the 
question  of  the  repeal  of  the  Sherman  law  was  para- 
mount. President  Cleveland  interpreted  the  demands 
of  the  times  to  be  the  unconditional  repeal  of  the  law. 
The  supporters  of  his  position  insisted  that  the  then 
existing  unsettled  conditions  were  due  to  the  distrust 
of  business  circles  in  the  workings  of  the  Sherman  law. 

An  extraordinary  session  of  Congress  was  called, 
meeting  on  August  7,  1'893,  at  which  time  President 


RIGHARB  P.  BLAND. 


149 


Cleveland  presented  Ms  message,  wliich,  embodying 
his  views,  declared  that  the  existing  unsettled  condi- 
tions and  depression  in  commercial  affairs  were  due  to 
the  workings  of  the  silver-purchasing  clause  of  the 
Sherman  Act,  which  he  termed  a truce  between  the  ad- 
vocates of  free-silver  coinage  and  “those  more  conserv- 
ative."” He  asked  Congress  to  repeal  this  purchasing 
clause  without  delay. 

On  Thursday,  August  11th,  Mr.  Wilson,  of  West  Vir- 
ginia, the  leader  of  the  Administration  forces  in  the 
House,  presented  a bill  wMch  contained  the  desired 
legislative  enactments,  mentioned  by  the  President. 
He  offered  the  bill  for  immediate  consideration.  Mr. 
Pland,  the  recognized  leader  of  the  non-partisan  advo- 
cates of  free-silver  coinage,  offered  the  bill  being  urged 
by  those  differing  from  the  President  on  the  subject. 
The  bill  of  Mr.  Bland  pro-snded  for  the  restoration  of 
the  coinage  system  prevailing  before  187.3,  and  re-estab- 
lished the  free  coinage  of  silver.  The  purchasing 
clause  of  the  Sherman  Act  of  1890  was  repealed  by  the 
provisions  of  the  Bland  Bill. 

A plan  of  debate,  formulated  by  Mr.  Bland  and 
agreed  upon  by  the  House,  contemplated  discussion  of 
the  subject  matter  for  two  weeks.  This  renowned  de- 
bate began  on  August  11th,  by  a speech  by  Mr.  Rayner, 
of  Maryland,  in  support  of  the  Wilson  Bill.  On  this 
memorable  afternoon  Mr.  Bland  delivered  a speech, 
denominated  in  the  annals  of  politics  as  “the  parting  of 


150 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


the  ways  speech,”  because  it  was  the  first  aflSrmation  of 
the  sacrifice  of  party  interest  the  supporters  of  free- 
silver  coinage  would  make  in  standing  for  their 
principles. 

The  circumstances  which  attended  this  speech  de- 
serve commemoration  because  of  their  political  signifi- 
cance. Mr.  Bland  was  just  then  wearied  of  the  double- 
dealing manners  of  some  of  his  colleagues  from  Mis- 
souri and  other  States.  He  sought  to  have  the  lines 
drawn  more  clearly  between  the  holders  of  the  two 
opinions  within  the  Democratic  party;  hence  the  em- 
phatic declarations  he  made  on  that  occasion.  A 
number  of  the  IMissouri  delegation  were  undecided  as 
to  the  course  to  pursue.  They  were  intense  partisans, 
entertaining  the  highest  regard  for  President  Cleve- 
land, yet  knew  that  their  constituency  were  opposed  to 
Cleveland’s  financial  views,  and  they  further  knew  that 
to  pursue  Cleveland’s  course  would  mean  disaster  at 
home.  Mr.  Bland  was  desirous  that  they  should  de- 
clare themselves  and  cease  their  halting  “between  two 
opinions,”  hence  the  serious,  firm  manner  in  which  he 
hurled  defiance  at  the  opponents  of  his  conception  of 
Democracy,  and  spoke  without  mincing  words  in  de- 
claring the  intention  of  those  of  his  colleagues  who 
were  avowedly  with  him. 

After  dwelling  upon  the  details  of  the  question  and 
making  a masterful  argument  against  the  proposed 
course  of  President  Cleveland,  he  came  to  the  period 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


151 


of  his  speech  dealing  with  the  political  phases  of  the 
discussion.  ' He  declared  that  the  sacrifices  of  popular 
interests  were  only  to  appease  English  greed,  following 
this  with  his  memorable  declarations,  from  which 
dates  the  fight  for  the  capture  of  the  organization  of 
the  Democratic  party : 

“Will  you  crush  the  people  of  your  own  land 
and  send  them  abroad  as  tramps,  will  you  kill  and 
destroy  your  own  industries  and  especially  the  pro- 
duction of  your  precious  metals  that  ought  to  be  sent 
abroad  eAmrywhere — will  you  do  this  simply  to  satisfy 
the  greed  of  Wall  Street,  the  mere  agent  of  Lombard 
Street  in  oppressing  the  people  of  Europe  and  of  this 
country?  It  cannot  be  done,  it  shall  not  be  done! 
I speak  for  the  great  masses  of  the  Mississi]>pi  Valley, 
and  those  west  of  it,  when  I say  you  shall  not  do  it! 

“Any  pofitical  party  that  undertakes  to-do  it  will, 
in  God’s  name,  be  trampled,  as  it  ought  to  be  trampled, 
into  the  dust  of  condemnation  now  and  in  the  future. 
Speaking  as  a Democrat,  all  my  life  battling  for  what  I 
conceived  to  be  Democracy  and  what  I conceived  to  be 
right,  I am  yet  an  American  above  Democracy.  I do 
not  intend,  we  do  not  intend,  that  any  party  shall  sur- 
vive, if  we  can  help  it,  that  will  lay  the  confiscating 
hand  upon  Americans  in  the  interests  of  England  or  of 
Europe.  Now  mark  it.  This  may  be  strong  language, 
but  heed  it.  The  people  mean  it,  and,  my  friends  of 


152 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Eastern  Democracy,  we  bid  farewell  when  you  do  that 
thing.” 

The  Chamber  rang  with  applause  as  Mr.  Bland  con- 
cluded this  earnest  protest  and  challenge.  He  paused, 
then  uttered  the  words  which  more  than  any  others 
perpetuated  the  speech  in  public  memory:  “Now  you 

can  take  your  choice  of  sustaining  England  against 
America,  American  interests,  and  American  laborers 
and  producers,  or  you  can  go  out  of  power.  We  have 
come  to  the  parting  of  the  ways.  I do  not  pretend  to 
speak  for  anybody  but  myself  and  my  constituents,  but 
I believe  that  I do  speak  for  the  great  masses  of  the 
great  Mississippi  Valley  when  I say  that  we  will  not 
submit  to  the  domination  of  any  political  party,  how- 
ever much  we  may  love  it,  that  lays  the  sacrificing  hand 
upon  silver  and  will  demonetize  it  in  this  country.” 

From  the  hour  of  this  speech  the  wavering  con- 
gressmen took  firm  stands  upon  the  question,  at  least 
until  the  conclusion  of  the  debate,  for  every  Demo- 
cratic member  of  the  Missouri  delegation  voted  with 
Mr,  Bland  on  the  final  issue,  although  in  after  years 
certain  of  them  drifted  from  his  standard  and  as  a re- 
sult lost  all  political  infiuence  they  ever  possessed  and 
died  ignominious  political  deaths.  It  was  not  long, 
however,  before  they  witnessed  the  reformation  of  the 
Democratic  party  along  the  lines  Mr.  Bland  indicated 
in  his  famous  speech.  They  all  lived,  also,  to  see  the 
day  when  the  great  silver  champion  passed  away. 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


153 


moiirued  as  the  source  of  established  Democratic 
doctrines  by  every  American  Democrat. 

“The  parting  of  the  ways”  became  a slogan  of  free- 
silver  Democrats  in  this  debate.  Senator  Vest  took 
up  the  phrase  in  a speech  in  the  Senate  on  August  14th, 
and  the  country  was  brought  to  realize  that  a great  po- 
litical party  was  confronted  by  a crisis  in  which  it  was 
sorely  and  seemingly  hopelessly  divided.  The  party, 
however,  emerged  finally  with  the  field  of  the  battle 
strewn  with  the  remnants  of  the  vaunted  claims  of 
leaders  who  sought  to  foist  an  un-Democratic  principle 
upon  the  party,  whei’eby  these  leaders  were  shown  that 
there  was  firm,  invincible,  unconquerable  determina- 
tion back  of  the  men  who  pointed  out  “the  parting  of 
the  ways.” 

The  famous  discussion  of  the  extra  session  term- 
inated with  a Auctory  for  the  gold-standard  forces,  an 
unconditional  repeal  bill  being  passed  by  the  House 
and  Senate.  The  Administration  used  its  powers  uu 
ceasingly  to  secure  this  result,  and  was  successful. 

Congress  later  passed  a bill,  of  which  Mr.  Bland 
was  the  author,  which  provided  for  the  coinage  of  the 
seignorage  on  the  silver  purchased  under  the  workings 
of  the  Sherman  law,  but  President  Cleveland  vetoed  it, 
and  the  silver  forces  were  not  sufliciently  strong  to 
carry  it  over  the  executive  veto. 


154 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


During  the  closing  days  of  the  Fifty-third  Congress 
the  silver  Democrats  of  Congress,  comprising  Mr. 
Bland,  Mr.  Bryan,  and  others  in  both  the  House  and 
Senate,  issued  an  address  to  the  American  people,  urg- 
ing the  money  question  as  the  paramount  issue  of  1896. 
This  address  was  the  outcome  of  a conference  of  the 
silver  leaders  and  was  a consequential  factor  in  the 
subsequent  events,  having  relations  with  the  question 
of  silver’s  restoration. 

In  1894  a Republican  landslide  swept  over  the 
Unit€‘d  States,  similar  to  the  Democratic  landslide 
which  carried  into  power  the  first  Democratic  Congress 
in  which  Mr.  Bland  served  and  in  which  he  was  chaii'- 
man  of  the  Committee  on  Mines  and  Mining,  in  1874. 
Ill  Missouri, as  in  other  parts  of  the  United  States,  many 
Democratic  voters  failed  to  vote,  and  Mr.  Bland  was 
defeated  for  the  first  time  since  liis  election  in  1872.  Dr. 
Joel  D.  Hubbard,  of  Versailles,  was  elected  in  his 
stead. 

Mr.  Bland’s  retirement  was  devoted  to  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  forces  of  free  silver  for  the  capture  of  the 
organization  of  the  Democratic  party.  He  was  in 
touch  with  the  leaders  of  the  nation  and  was  looked  to 
as  the  great  leader  of  the  believers  in  bimetallism. 
Mr.  Bland  was  first  most  interested  in  Missouri.  He, 
in  common  with  the  other  Democratic  leaders  of  the 
State,  was  confident  that  the  disaster  of  1894  was 
caused  by  the  desire  of  the  independent  Democratic 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


155 


Toter  to  administer  a rebuke  to  President  Cleveland 
and  the  supporters  of  the  Administration’s  financial 
views. 

In  1894  the  party  of  the  State  had  met  in  conven- 
tion at  Kansas  City,  at  which  time  Mr.  Bland  had  pre- 
sided over  its  deliberations,  and  it  had  adopted  a free- 
silver  platform,  but  the  advocates  of  the  gold  standard 
were  still  powerful  in  the  council  chambers  of  the 
party. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


MR.  BLAND  AND  THE  PRESIDENCY.— HIS  PER 
SONAL  CHARACTERISTICS.— HIS 
LIFE’S  USEFULNESS. 

In  the  early  part  of  1895,  a movement  was  started 
in  Missouri,  which  constitutes  the  inception  of  the 
famous  struggle  for  the  control  of  the  organization  of 
the  Democratic  party.  The  object  of  this  political 
move  was  to  bring  about  the  holding  of  a State  conven- 
tion to  define  the  position  of  the  party  in  Missouri  upon 
the  money  question.  This  the  more  conservative 
members  of  the  party,  and  especially  those  who  were 
sympathizers  with  Mr.  Cleveland,  dej>recated  as  an  un- 
precedented move.  It  was  bitterly  opposed  by  every 
lukewarm  believer  in  free  silver  and  by  the  radical 
supporters  of  the  Cleveland  ideas.  It  was  argued  by 
them  that  the  party  had  never  before  felt  it  necessary 
to  hold  such  an  extraordinary  convention  and  attempt 
to  dictate  the  policies  of  the  national  organization. 

]\fr.  Bland  gave  his  hearty  approval  to  the  move- 
ment. It  was  in  fact  following  after  the  famous  “part- 
ing of  the  ways”  speech  made  by  him.  It  evidenced 
the  determination  of  Mr.  Bland  and  those  who  held  to 
his  opinions,  and  showed  that  there  was  nothing  which 
would  restrain  them  from  making  every  effort,  ordinary 


RICHARD  P.  BLAHD. 


157 


and  extraordinary,  to  capture  and  overthrow  the  po- 
sition of  the  gold  standard  advocate  in  the  Democratic 
party.  They  were  burning  bridges  behind  them.  Mr. 
Bland  saw  readily  the  far-reaching  effect  of  a conven- 
tion held  in  Missouri,  for  the  purpose  of  speaking  for 
silver.  He  saw  that  it  would  start  a tide  of  enthusi- 
asm to  rolling  over  the  nation  that  would  sweep  all 
opposition  in  the  Democratic  party  before  it.  He  real- 
ized that  the  time  had  come  to  give  his  life’s  idea  the 
life  and  vigor  which  would  make  it  a most  important 
factor  in  national  politics. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  ardent  administrationists 
saw  that  if  this  convention  should  be  held,  the  unques- 
tioned sentiment  of  the  party  in  Missouri  would  spring 
to  a fountain-head  and  pour  forth  destruction  upon  the 
men  who  sought  to  restrain  it;  hence  every  possible 
effort  was  put  forth  against  it. 

The  State  Central  Committee  seemed  to  be  in  the 
control  of  the  gold  standard  supporters  and  the  pros- 
pects were  looked  upon  as  unfavorable  to  the  proj- 
ect, when  the  counties  favorable  to  silver  called  the 
convention  themselves.  This  convention  was  held  at 
Pertle  Springs,  Mo.,  in  August,  1895.  An  enthusiastic 
throng  of  silver  Democrats  predominated  and  a strong 
platform  was  adopted,  committing  the  party  to  Mr. 
Bland’s  ideas  on  the  money  question.  The  convention, 
among  other  things,  directed  Mr.  Bland,  as  the  chair- 
man of  the  convention,  to  appoint  a committee  com- 


158 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


posed  of  two  from  each  congressional  district  in  the 
State,  to  represent  the  State  in  a conference,  called  by 
Senators  Turpie  of  Indiana,  Jones  of  Arkansas,  and 
Harris  of  Tennessee,  to  be  held  at  Washington.  This 
committee  was  appointed  by  Mr.  Bland  and  the  organi- 
zation of  the  silver  forces  was  much  aided  by  the  con- 
ference resulting. 

The  silver  element  of  the  Missouri  Democracy  at 
last  controlled  the  State  organization  and  Mr.  Bland 
was  the  acknowledged  leader,  sharing  his  position  with 
none.  The  crusade  which  followed  the  Pertle  Springs 
convention,  resulting  in  the  Chicago  convention  and 
the  Chicago  platform,  extended  over  every  State  of  the 
Union  and  was  one  of  the  most  thorough  campaigns 
for  mastery  ever  conducted  inside  the  ranks  of  a 
political  party, 

Mr.  Bland  was  referred  to  as  the  logical  presiden- 
tial candidate  of  the  silver  party,  but  to  all  the  urging 
of  friends  he  responded  deprecatingly.  He  was  not 
desirous  of  converting  the  forthcoming  silver  campaign 
into  a contest  for  the  furtherment  of  his  personal 
interests. 

Eaidy  in  1896,  the  Democratic  voters  of  Missouri 
began  holding  conventions  and  primaries  to  elect  dele- 
gates to  the  State  convention,  which  was  to  select  dele- 
gates to  the  national  convention.  The  greater  part  of 
the  counties  instructing  for  the  election  of  delegates- 
at-large,  named  Mr.  Bland  as  the  first  choice  for  dele- 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


159 


gate-at-large.  However,  when  the  convention  met  at 
Sedalia  on  April  15,  1896,  the  State  leaders  set  about 
to  start  a campaign  for  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Bland 
for  the  presidency.  He  again  protested,  saying  on 
more  than  one  occasion : “I  hope  my  friends  will  not  in- 
sist upon  introducing  a resolution  endorsing  me  for 
President.  This  is  a struggle  for  principle,  and,  with 
Missouri  leading  the  fight,  we  should  not  place  our- 
selves in  a position  to  be  charged  with  selfish  motives.” 
- At  last  he  saw  it  useless  to  resist  the  calls  of  his 
friends  and  consented  to  the  offering  of  a resolution 
endorsing  him  for  the  presidency  and  instructing  the 
delegates  chosen  to  use  all  their  influence  to  secure  his 
nomination. 

A campaign  was  then  inaugurated,  which  at  one 
time  seemed  likely  to  culminate  with  success.  A wave 
of  enthusiasm  for  Mr.  Bland  was  observant.  The  cam- 
paign was  in  charge  of  some  of  the  ablest  Democratic 
leaders  in  Missouri,  who  visited  other  States  in  the 
interests  of  the  Bland  candidacy.  Mr.  Bland  himself 
took  little,  if  any,  part  in  the  contest,  for  his  sole  inter- 
est was  for  the  success  of  the  silver  cause  and  he  did 
not  care  for  the  presidency,  except  that  it  might  place 
him  where  he  could  benefit  the  cause  of  free  silver. 

Mr.  Bland’s  lack  of  selfish  interest  in  the  campaign 
for  his  nomination  is  shown  by  an  incident  which  oc- 
curred shortly  before  the  convention  met  at  Chicago. 

Governor  Stone  and  many  of  Mr.  Bland’s  supporters 
—11— 


160 


FIYE  F AMOVE  MI8E0VRIAF8. 


thought  that  it  would  be  a good  plan  to  have  Mr.  Bland 
present  at  Chicago,  that  his  cause  might  be  advanced 
by  his  presence.  It  was  believed  that  if  Mr.  Bland 
went  to  Chicago,  not  only  would  the  cause  of  free  silver 
be  successful  in  the  convention,  for  that  was  then  prac- 
tically certain,  bnt  that  the  enthusiastic  silver  men 
would  not  be  able  to  resist  the  inspiration  lent  by  Mr. 
Bland,  the  father  of  the  movement,  and  his  presence. 
Along  in  the  latter  part  of  June,  jnst  after  the  adjourn- 
ment of  Congress,  Governor  Stone  sent  for  Major  T.  O. 
Towles,  one  of  Mr.  Bland’s  closest  personal  friends  and 
for  years  Chief  Clerk  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 
and  asked  Major  Towles  if  he  thought  he  could  induce 
Mr.  Bland  to  go  to  Chicago,  as  others  had  failed. 
Major  Towles  advised  the  Governor  that  he  feai'ed  if 
Mr.  Bland  had  said  he  would  not  go,  no  possible  influ- 
ence could  induce  him  to  go,  but  he  agreed  to  visit  Mr. 
Bland  at  Lebanon  and  join  in  the  pleas  for  him  to  pur- 
sue this  course.  So  Major  Towles  went  to  Lebanon  on 
this  mission. 

Mr.  Bland  received  him  cordially  and  was  affable 
and  pleasant  throughout  the  interview.  Major  Towles, 
in  relating  the  story,  said:  “I  talked  with  Mr.  Bland; 
finally,  upon  the  subject  of  his  candidacy  for  the  pres- 
idency, and  urged  him  to  go  to  Chicago,  saying  that  his 
presence  there  would  be  practically  certain  to  secure 
his  nomination,  but  he  shook  his  head  repeatedly. 
‘Towles,’  he  said  at  length,  ‘I  don’t  want  that  nomina- 


niCUARD  P.  BLiyD. 


161 


tiou,  and  my  friends  must  not  put  my  personal  inter- 
ests above  principles.  I will  accept  the  nomination  if 
it  is  given  me,  but  so  far  as  making  an  effort  to  secure 
it  myself,  that  I will  not  do.’  ” Continuing,  Major 
Towles  said:  “I  saw  that  the  situation  was  this:  If 

Bland  was  to  be  nominated,  it  must  be  done  without 
his  presence  at  the  convention.  When  I started  to  go, 
Mr.  Bland  followed  me  to  the  gate,  talking  all  the  way 
about  the  coming  convention,  in  which  he  showed  the 
keenest  interest,  not  by  any  means  as  a candidate,  but 
for  the  success  of  the  cause  of  free  silver  and  the  judi- 
cious beginning  of  the  bitter  fight  which  his  experi- 
enced mind  told  him  was  coming.  At  the  gate,  when  I 
turned  to  tell  him  good-bye,  I again  asked  him  if  he 
would  not  reconsider,  heed  the  requests  of  his  friends 
and  go  to  Chicago.  ‘No,’  said  he  with  characteristic 
firnmess,  that  I knew  permitted  no  swerving;  ‘as  I said 
before,  Towles,  I don’t  want  that  nomination.  If  ft 
comes  to  me,  well  and  good;  if  not,  well  and  good.  I 
shall  not  turn  my  hand  over  to  win  it.  If  I knew  I could 
get  the  nomination  by  going  to  Chicago,  I would  not 
go.’  ” 

Even  the  appeals  of  a confidential  friend  and  polit- 
ical adviser  were  unavailing  and  could  not  induce  him 
to  bring  himself  into  prominence  at  Chicago  by  his 
own  efforts. 

Before  the  convention  a thorough  campaign  was 
conducted  in  behalf  of  the  Bland  candidacy,  and  when 


162  FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOVRIAFS. 

the  convention  met  the  Missourian  was  regarded  as  the 
logical  candidate  and  the  strongest  probability.  At  the 
convention  every  possible  effort  was  made  and  the  suc- 
cess of  Bland  seemed  imminent  until  Mr.  Bryan  loomed 
into  prominence  because  of  his  brilliant  speech,  deliv- 
ered at  an  opportune  moment  before  the  convention. 
Bryan  drew  toward  him  the  very  large  element  of  the 
convention  who  did  not  believe  that  Mr.  Bland’s  candi- 
dacy would  lend  the  enthusiasm  to  the  campaign  that 
Bryan’s  would  give.  Some  thought  the  Nebraskan 
was  the  ablest  advocate  of  silver  coinage  in  the  Demo- 
cratic party  and  his  nomination  was  practically  assured 
from  the  hour  that  his  prominence  before  the  conven- 
tion began.  Mr.  Bland  led  on  the  first  three  ballots, 
Bryan  began  to  gain  on  the  fourth  ballot,  while  the 
fifth  resulted  in  a stampede  to  Bryan,  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  in  the  history  of  political  conventions. 

Just  before  the  nomination  of  Bryan,  but  when  the 
progress  of  the  balloting  indicated  beyond  all  doubt 
the  impending  nomination,  Governor  Stone  read  a note 
which  Mr.  Bland  had  placed  in  his  hands  before  the 
meeting  of  the  convention.  It  said:  “If  it  should  at 

any  time  appear  that  my  candidacy  is  an  obstruction 
to  the  nomination  of  any  candidate  who  is  acceptable 
to  the  free  coinage  delegation,  or  one  more  acceptable 
than  myself,  I wish  my  name  at  once  withdrawn  from 
further  consideration.  Put  the  cause  above  men.” 

Thus  ended  Bland’s  candidacy  for  the  presidency,  in 


RICHARD  P.  BLAHD. 


163 


which  he  took  no  part  himself  and  which  he  allowed  to 
be  launched  only  for  the  advancement  of  the  cause  of 
free  silver.  Mr.  Bryan  was  nominated  and  the  cam- 
paign forthcoming  drew  to  it  the  staunchest  support  of 
the  Missouri  father  of  the  silver  movement. 

From  that  day  the  great  Missouri  champion  of  bi- 
metallism passed  into  the  ranks  of  the  great  Americans 
with  undying  fame,  but  who  never  became  presidents. 

That  he  was  not  nominated  was  a source  of  more  or 
less  personal  relief  to  Mr.  Bland.  He  consented  to  the 
use  of  his  name  because  of  the  representations  made  to 
him  that  he  would  be  the  strongest  man  the  silver 
forces  could  find.  When  Mr.  Bryan  was  brought  be- 
fore the  country  in  the  role  of  a presidential  candidate, 
Mr.  Bland  willingly  cast  his  mantle  upon  younger  and 
stronger  shoulders.  The  father  of  the  great  crusade 
for  silver’s  restoration  felt  only  interest  in  the  success 
of  the  cause,  and  if  it  could  have  approached  victory  as 
easily  under  the  leadership  of  Bryan  as  under  his  own, 
the  personal  side  of  the  matter  vanished. 

The  defeat  which  Mr.  Bryan  and  the  Democratic 
party  met  at  the  polls  in  1896  was  not  felt  more  keenly 
by  anyone  than  by  Mr.  Bland,  but,  reconciled  as  he 
had  been  in  defeats  many  times  before,  by  a firm  con- 
viction that  he  was  in  the  right,  he  felt  that  the  time 
for  Truth’s  triumph  had  not  yet  appeared,  so  he  took 
up  his  duties  in  Congress  with  the  old  determination 
and  confidence  in  the  future.  His  election  to  the  Fifty- 
fifth  Congress  wms  accomplished  by  a large  majority. 


164 


FIVE  FAMOES  MI8S0VRIAES. 


Tlie  absolute  absence  of  selfish  consideration  from 
Mr.  Bland’s  character  is  as  strongly  evidenced  by  his 
course  in  the  campaign  of  1800  as  by  any  other  fact. 
After  his  retirement  from  the  race  for  the  presidency, 
he  had  the  nomination  for  governor  in  Missouri  within 
his  grasp  to  be  had  for  the  asking.  But  he  realized 
that  in  no  way  could  he  aid  the  silver  cause  by  serving 
as  Missouri’s  chief  executive,  and  he  instantly  forced 
the  dismissal  of  all  such  proposals  from  public  con- 
sideration b}^  declining  firmly  to  receive  any  nomina- 
tion within  the  gift  of  the  people  outside  of  that  for 
Congress  in  his  old  district,  which  he  received  and  was 
enthusiastically  re-elected  after  a retirement  of  two 
years. 

The  closing  years  of  his  long  congressional  service 
were  marked  largely  with  his  relinquishment  of  active 
leadership.  He  refused  to  become  the  leader  of  the 
Democratic  minority  in  the  Honse  of  Representatives, 
although  the  party  representatives  in  the  lower  house 
of  Congress  were  never  so  earnestly  devoted  to  him 
and  his  ideas  as  in  the  sessions  of  the  Fifty-fifth  Con- 
gress. For  the  first  time  in  his  long  career,  the  men  of 
his  party  left  in  Congress  were  practically  united  upon 
the  great  issue  he  represented  and  personified  in  so 
many  ways.  Never  had  he  commanded  the  respect 
and  faithful  following  that  he  had  in  those  latter  years; 
yet  withal  he  declined  to  pose  before  the  country  in 
the  conspicuous  position  of  minority  leader  of  the 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


165 


Lower  House.  But  notwithstanding  this  fact  he  stood 
as  the  actual  leader  and  the  harmonizing  factor  among 
his  party  men. 

In  the  Fifty-fifth  Congress  he  carried  his  brilliant 
career  to  a consistent  close.  He  opposed  in  this  Con- 
gress the  efforts  to  establish  the  gold  standard  more 
firmly  by  a so-called  reform  of  the  currency.  He  an- 
tagonized, as  in  former  years,  the  advocates  of  the  pro- 
tective tariff  system.  He  saw  the  far-reaching  effects 
of  the  two  fold  policy  of  the  Republican  party — to 
maintain  a high  tariff  and  foster  the  development  of 
commercial  combinations  and  monopolies;  to  maintain 
a gold  standard  and  render  easy  fhe  control  of  the 
metallic  money  of  the  country  by  limiting  the  coinage 
and  privileges  of  certain  metals,  thus  placing  the  peo- 
ple of  the  United  States  at  the  mercy  of  wealth,  ena- 
bling control  of  the  prices  of  commodities,  necessary  to 
existence,  by  commercial  combines,  and  forcing  down 
the  iirices  of  labor  and  articles  not  under  the  control  of 
the  trust  by  the  conti’action  of  the  money  supply  of  the 
land. 

During  Mr.  Bland’s  last  term  in  Congress,  there 
arose  the  great  questions  of  the  Spanish-American 
War.  Prior  to  the  war,  his  ardent  sympathies  were 
with  the  Cuban  peoxde;  during  the  war,  his  patriotic 
purpose  was  to  urge  the  war’s  successful  prosecution; 
after  the  war  and  the  arising  of  its  results  as  political 
questions,  he  opposed  vigorously  the  plans  to  defeat 


166 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


the  humane  purposes  of  the  war  and  for  the  acquire- 
ment of  conquered  territory  without  the  consent  of  the 
people.  The  position  Mr.  Bland  took  on  the  questions 
of  the  Spanish  War  was  the  most  conspicuous  feature 
of  the  last  few  months  of  his  life,  and  to  those  who  op- 
posed his  ideas,  later,  came  the  time  when  they  realized 
that  the  l)emoeratic  party  would  find  it  necessary  to 
apply  at  least  the  central  idea  of  the  revered  Demo- 
cratic statesman  to  the  issues  of  the  time.  In  part  and 
and  in  detail,  however,  Mr.  Bland  dilfered  widely  from 
many  who  were  his  most  ardent  supporters  on  the 
silver  issue. 

When  the  time  came  to  meet  the  great  question  of 
preparing  for  the  financial  demands  of  the  war,  Mr. 
Bland  offered  a bill  providing  for  the  coinage  of  the 
seignorage  on  silver  bullion  purchased  for  the  payment 
of  the  expenses  of  the  war,  but  that  was  not  the  plan  of 
the  Administration,  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury 
instead  being  directed  to  issue  bonds. 

In  the  last  days  of  the  Fifty-fifth  Congress,  there 
was  witnessed  the  development  of  one  of  the  greatest 
political  questions  of  modern  times.  Clouds  were  then 
gathered  and  are  3'et  hanging  ominously  over  American 
commerce, — the  giant  forms  of  the  trust  and  combine. 
For  years  Mr.  Bland  had  seen  approaching  the  exi- 
gencies these  creatures  of  legislative  injustice  would 
bring.  He  had  hurled  the  charge  against  the  early  ad- 
\ ocates  of  the  gold  standard  that  their  policies  would 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


16 


result  in  the  crushing  of  individual  effort;  therefore, 
the  period  in  which  he  passed  to  the  grave  was  the  hour 
for  the  vindication  of  his  views.  From  every  corner 
of  the  continent  arose  the  complaints  of  those  who  were 
feeling  the  crushing  effects  of  the  trust’s  domination. 
Mr.  Bland  years  before  had  known  that  the  germ 
placed  in  the  body  of  American  politics  at  the  outset 
of  his  political  career,  by  the  first  concession  to  greed, 
was  but  beginning  to  work  its  dreaded  evils  by  the 
depreciating  of  silver.  He  saw  whence  proceeded  the 
impending  mastery  of  the  dollar  and  the  financial 
serfdom  of  man. 

In  1898,  Mr.  Bland  was  returned  to  Congress  for  the 
last  time,  being  then  elected  to  the  Fifty-sixth  Con- 
gress, whose  first  session  he  did  not  live  to  see. 

On  the  15th  of  June,  1899,  after  a lingering  illness, 
he  passed  from  this  world’s  work  and  turmoil  into  rest 
everlasting.  The  end  came  to  him  with  peace.  ThirO'- 
six  hours  before  the  moment  in  which  he  ceased  to 
breathe,  he  had  fallen  into  a sleep  from  which  he  never 
awoke.  On  Tuesday,  June  13th,  he  seemed  to  realize 
the  approach  of  the  end  and  called  all  the  members  of 
his  family  to  his  bedside.  In  those  last  moments  of  con- 
sciousness he  confided  to  his  loving  family  the  last  mes- 
sage of  his  sixty-four  years  of  life.  When  the  physi- 
cians entered  the  room  shortly  after,  he  was  found 
asleep,  with  his  youngest  daughter,  Virginia,  clasped 
in  his  last  loving  embrace. 


168 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


At  4 ;30  Thursday  morning  death  came  without  the 
return  of  consciousness,  and  Missouri’s  Great  Com- 
moner had  breathed  his  last.  The  light  of  a useful  life 
had  gone  out. 

On  Saturday  following  he  was  laid  to  rest  in  the 
Lebanon  Cemetery  with  a simple,  impressive  cere- 
mony, witnessed  by  a distinguished  throng,  comprising 
famous  men  of  all  political  faiths  from  Missouri  and 
surrounding  States. 


A personal  review  of  Mr.  Bland  would  require  a 
volume  in  itself.  Few  men  have  been  advanced  so 
high  as  he  wms  placed,  w'ho  possessed  the  force  of  char- 
acter and  elements  of  sterling  manhood  that  he  had. 
He  was  almost  destitute  of  selfish  ambition,  always 
singularly  modest,  and  at  times  almost  bashful  from 
manner  and  appearance.  He  wms  by  no  means  an 
orator  or  graceful  speaker.  The  attention  he  com- 
manded w'as  rather  because  of  his  candor,  his  honesty 
and  evident  sincerity  of  purpose,  and  the  logic  of  his 
facts.  The  tricks  and  enthusing  periods  of  a campaign 
orator  were  matters^of  which  he  was  esiiecially  igno- 
rant. However,  whenever  he  spoke  he  swayed  more 
minds  by  his  energy  and  forceful  speech  than  the  rhet- 
oric and  polished  manners  of  the  orator.  The  Housp 
of  Representatives,  during  the  twenty-six  years  of  his 
ser\dce,  had  few  men  superior  to  him  in  debate,  par- 
ticularly upon  economic  questions.  His  mind  was 


BIGHARD  P.  BLAND. 


169 


quick,  his  retort  was  mild  but  firm,  his  intelligeuce  and 
kuowledge  of  every  position  he  assumed  made  him 
feared  as  a powerful  advocate,  an  ally  to  be  desired, 
and  a foe  to  be  avoided. 

His  vast  fund  of  information  upon  financial  ques- 
tions served  him  so  well  that  few  men,  not  familiar 
with  the  details  of  a public  question,  could  meet  him 
nith  discretion.  The  pen  he  wdelded  only  to  record 
some  of  his  pow^erful  thoughts,  and  when  he  wrote 
upon  any  economic  subject,  within  the  range  of  his 
capable  mind,  his  writings  were  so  lucid,  clear,  logical, 
and  perfect  in  j'hrase  and  diction  as  to  call  forth  re- 
mark that  the  author  w^as  an  unassuming  farmer  dwell- 
ing in  the  hills  of  southern  Missouri. 

A Washington  newspaper  correspondent  relates  an 
incident  serving  to  stamp  the  man  as  wonderfully  sup- 
plied with  facts.  During  the  debate  upon  the  repeal 
of  the  purchasing  clause  of  the  Sherman  law,  he  was 
asked  by  a leading  magazine  to  contribute  an  article 
embodying  his  opinions  upon  the  questions  under  de- 
bate. Mr.  Bland  expressed  regret  to  the  correspond- 
ent that  he  had  not  the  time  to  prepare  the  article, 
when  the  newspaper  man  said,  “MTiy  not  dictate  it  to 
our  stenographer?” 

Mr.  Bland  smiled  and  said  that  he  did  not  wish  to 
take  up  the  time  of  the  newspaper  office,  but,  being 
assured  that  it  would  not  be  at  all  inconvenient,  he  sat 
dowm  by  the  stenographer,  turned  to  the  letter  from  the. 


170 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


magazine,  noted  the  scope  of  discussion,  and  began 
dictating  his  article  with  great  rapidity.  After  the  dic- 
tation had  been  completed,  he  glanced  it  over  hastily, 
and  made  only  a few  corrections  before  sending  it  to 
the  magazine.  Upon  publication,  the  article  proved 
to  be  a model  in  that  it  was  so  concisely  constructed 
and  the  opinions  of  the  writer  so  logically  expressed. 

In  the  work  of  legislation  Mr.  Bland  belonged  to  a 
class  embodying  only  a few  of  latter-day  statesmen, 
those  of  whom  it  is  said  with  truth,  ‘‘they  court  rather 
than  evade  an  issue.”  His  mind  was  never  absorbed 
in  plans  to  reserve  his  views  from  public  comment 
until  he  could  catch  the  drift  of  sentiment,  as  many  do. 
He  met  every  question  fearlessly  and  never  paused  to. 
Ihink  what  a position  consistent  with  conviction  would 
cost  him  politically.  He  was  so  destitute  of  selfish- 
ness that  his  regard  for  office  and  for  public  favor  was 
such  that  he  would  have  gone  into  political  exile  had 
necessity  demanded  that  he  do  so  for  his  principles. 

He  was  firm  in  all  things  he  thought  right.  No 
man,  great  or  insignificant,  could  swerve  him  from 
wliat  he  thought  right.  He  was  a despiser  of  weak 
convictions;  hence  never  permitted  himself  to  falter  in 
his  allegiance  to  his  own  conscience. 

He  cared  as  little  for  what  the  press  or  public  said 
or  thought  of  him,  personally,  as  any  man  ever  promi- 
nent in  American  politics.  His  only  regard  for  what 
men  said  of  him  was  in  the  event  that  their  words 


RICHARD  P.  BLAND. 


171 


would  help  or  injure  the  great  cause  for  which  he  lived 
and  strived.  Every  man  he  treated  with  unquestioned 
justice  and  fairness.  No  man  rose  so  high  in  the  pub- 
lic eyes  or  possessed  such  power  and  influence  as  to 
impel  Bland’s  obeisance  to  him.  No  man  ever  fell  so 
deep  into  the  mire  of  society  or  filled  positions  so  ob- 
scure as  to  be  beyond  his  great  heart’s  consideration. 
The  word  of  the  poor,  uninfluential  man  counted  for  as 
much  with  him  as  that  of  the  man  with  power  at  the 
tips  of  every  finger. 

His  manner  in  dealing  with  friend  or  foe  was  above 
all  manner  of  suspicion.  No  one  could  have  urged  any- 
thing dishonest  against  him,  for  the  charges  would 
have  disproved  themselves.  He  started  into  public  life 
with  the  open  declaration  that  he  did  not  want  a con- 
gressional nomination  by  any  means  in  any  way  sug- 
gestive of  fraud  or  dishonorable  methods.  He  stood 
firm  to  his  original  intention  while  other  public  men, 
weaker  men,  fell  by  the  way-side  of  political  life  and 
lost  their  laurels  in  the  mire  of  political  dishonor. 

Bland  was  as  near  akin  to  Andrew  Jackson  as  any 
man  since  Jackson’s  time.  In  type  different  in  many 
particulars,  yet  in  purpose,  in  integrity  and  fearless- 
ness they  were  two  men  after  the  same  heart. 

Bland  was  legitimately  the  successor  of  Thomas 
Hart  Benton,  yet  was  without  the  selfish  nature,  the 
egotism,  the  presumption  of  the  famous  Missouri  sen- 


172 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


ator,  although  both  men  fought  the  people’s  battles 
against  combined  wealth  and  concerted  greed. 

When  “the  breath  of  the  eternal  morn”  touched 
Bland,  it  found  him  spotless  and  clean  in  heart  and  soul. 
It  brought  him  rest,  peace,  and  renewed  honor.  Lfosser 
men  who  ridiculed  him  may  live  and  fall  forgotten,  in 
time  fill  nameless  graves,  but  the  name  of  Bland  is 
graven  too  glitteringly  upon  history’s  pages  for  his 
fame  to  ever  lose  one  particle  of  its  brightness. 

Fifty  years  hence  proud  heads  will  bow  to  his  name 
and  nations  do  reverence  to  his  honor,  his  integrity,  his 
high,  uiKpiestioned  purpose,  his  faithful,  untiring  serv- 
ice of  truth  against  all  odds.  His  is  a fame  which 
gathers  luster  and  brilliancy  with  passing  years — all 
because  events  must  and  will  serve  as  irrefutable,  un- 
impeachable testimonials  to  his  great  life’s  worth. 


CnA/nP  CLARK, 

ORA  TOR.  STA  TESMAN,  WRITER,  AND  LA  WYER. 


. . ^ 


■ . «r.  • ■ • 


i 


f 


X. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  subject  of  this  sketch  is  well  entitled  to  a place 
among  “Famous  Missourians,”  and  he  has  earned  his 
right  to  it  by  great  ability,  by  lidelity  to  his  principles, 
and  by  unswerving  honesty.  There  may  be  Missouri- 
ans about  whom  the  public  press  prints  more  frequent 
comments;  but  there  is  not  one  living  to-day,  and  I 
very  much  doubt  if  one  ever  lived,  whose  writings 
and  whose  speeches  have  been  so  widely  copied 
and  read  as  have  those  of  Champ  Clark  during 
the  last  four  years.  There  is  scarcely  a weekly 
newspaper  in  the  United  States  that  has  not  printed 
extracts  from  his  letters  or  his  speeches  several 
times  each  year  since  1804,  and  what  he  has  Avritten  or 
spoken  has  been  read  and  enjoyed  in  almost  every 
household  iii  this  Eejoiblic. 

I haA^e  heard  his  unfriendly  critics  declare  that  it 
Avas  the  (piaiutness  of  his  speech  and  writing  that  com- 
manded such  universal  attention;  but  the  men  avIio  say 
that  have  not  considered  the  matter  carefully.  It  is 
true  there  is  a peculiarity  all  his  oavu  iu  his  Avay  of  say- 
ing things;  but  apart  from  all  of  that,  Avhat  he  says  is 
always  worth  reading,  and  nearly . always  Avorth  re- 
membering. At  lirst  I was  simply  entertained  by  his 
aphoristic  style  of  speaking,  but  when  I examined  the 

—12— 


176 


INTRODUCTION. 


matter  independently  of  the  manner,  I found  that  there 
was  always  meat  in  his  odd  sentences;  and  after  an 
intimate  association  with  him  in  Congress  for  four 
years,  during  which  time  I read  or  heard  everything 
he  has  written  or  spoken,  I regard  him  as  one  of  the 
strongest  men  in  the  American  Congress.  There  are 
others  there  as  strong  in  speech,  and  others  as  strong 
in  thought;  but  it  is  rare  to  find  any  man  either  in  or 
out  of  Congress  who  is  his  equal  both  in  thought  and 
speech.  And  what  is  better  still  than  the  way  he 
thinks  or  the  way  he  speaks  is  his  rugged  hoinesty, 
which  knows  “no  variableness  nor  shadow  of  turning.” 
Not  only  is  Champ  Clark  entitled  to  a place  among 
“Famous  Missourians,”  but  I am  willing  to  put  myself 
on  record  in  this  print  that  if  he  lives  and  keeps  his 
healih  he  is  destined  to  become  the  most  “Famous 
IMissourian”  of  his  generation. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  FAMILY  OF  CHAMP  CLARK.— HIS  BOY- 
HOOD AND  EARLY  EXPERIENCES.— 
YOUTHFUL  SCHOOL-TEACH- 
INO.— UNIVERSITY 
CAREER. 

In  the  eai-ly  twenties,  educational  facilities  in  Ken- 
tucky were  extremely  limited.  Common  schools  were 
almost  unknown,  colleges  were  rare,  and  where  they 
did  exist  their  patronage  was  obtained  almost  ex- 
clusively from  th(!  wealthier  class  of  Kentucky  people. 
Naturally,  with  these  conditions  prevailing,  there  was 
slight  use  for  the  professional  man.  Of  course,  the  old- 
time  doctor,  with  his  saddle-pockets  tilled  with  bottles 
of  calomel,  castor  oil,  salts,  laudanum,  and  pills  of 
many  sorts  and  mysterious  composition,  was  a neces- 
sary complement  of  the  community.  Likewise  the  cir- 
cuit-rider came  into  the  untutored  community  to 
preach,  without  pecuniary  recompense,  the  tidings  of 
salvation,  sometimes  in  the  cabins  and  oftentimes  with 
only  the  canopy  of  heaven  for  an  enclosure. 

Last  of  all,  the  lawyer  was  needed.  - Jealousy,  envy, 
and  strife  were  practically  unknown  in  those  pioneer 
days,  for  a common  interest  and  a common  sympathy 
made  people  brothers — almost  communistic  in  their  re- 


178 


FITE  FAM0V8  MIB80VRTA-N8. 


lations.  Where  the  lawyer  was  foiiml,  he  secured  the 
means  for  sustenance  by  writing  deeds  and  wills,  set- 
tling land  claims,  or  occasionally  participating  as  coun- 
sel in  some  murder  case  of  those  early  days.  He  was 
rarely  needed,  and  when  his  services  were  necessitated, 
he  received  small  fees  for  his  services. 

In  the  early  twenties,  so  environed,  two  noble  young 
men  of  Kentucky  origin,  James  T.  Beauchamp  and 
Jeroboam  O.  Beauchamp,  cousins,  were  reared,  after 
the  manner  of  the  days  of  that  period.  The  home-circle 
was  proud  of  these  youths  and  society  honored  them 
with  its  favor  on  account  of  their  strict  morals,  hand- 
some persons,  keen  intelligence,  and  polished  manners. 

Despite  the  unpromising  outlook  for  the  man  of  a 
lu’ofession,  James  T.  Beauchamp  thought  he  foresav; 
that,  in  the  future,  his  services  would  l)e  needed  when 
the  country  should  liecome  more  fully  develo])ed.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  entered  the  profession  of  law,  and  next 
chose  a helpmeet  in  the  person  of  Miss  Elizabeth  Jetl, 
renowned  in  all  the  neighboring  region  for  her  beauty 
and  accomplishments.  Miss  Jett  was  the  daughter  of 
a i-ich  widow  who  had  emigrated  to  Kentucky  from 
Virginia.  jNIrs.  Jett's  maiden  name  was  Kobertsoii. 
She  was  a cousin  to  Chief  Justice  Bobertson,  of  Ken- 
tucky. Elizabeth  Jett's  brother,  Dr.  Hiram  Jett, 
whose  name  is  familiar  to  many  Kentuckians,  became 
one  of  the  most  conspicuous  men  of  the  State. 

James  T.  Beauchami:)  and  Elizabeth  Jett  were  the 
maternal  grandparents  of  Champ  Clark. 


CHAMP  GLARE. 


179 


For  some  }'eai-s  after  liis  marriage,  James  T.  Beau- 
eliamp  was  liappy  and  prosperous,  amassing  consider- 
able wealtli.  He  rose  into  prominence  as  a lawyer  and 
was  tinally  elected  to  the  Legislature,  soon  after  he 
became  eligible  to  the  office. 

Scarcely  a year  after  James  T.  Beauchamp  was 
married,  Jeroboam  O.  Beauchamp,  his  lirst  cousin, 
chanced  to  meet  a celebrated  beauty  (jf  the  period.  Miss 
Anna  Cooper,  with  whom  he  became  enamored.  Then 
he  learned  her  sad  story — that  she  had  been  Itetrayed 
liy  a vile  scoundrel,  a Colonel  Sharp,  who  for  several 
years  was  a member  of  Congress  from  the  Creeii  Kiver 
District.  Upon  being  importuned  for  A'erilication  of 
the  stoi-y  by  y(»ung  Beaucham]»,  Miss  <'ooi»er  told  him 
of  the  wrongs  indicted  upcm  her,  whereupon  Beau 
chamj)  espoused  her  misfortunes,  became  her  chanijiion 
and  avenger,  and  killed  Sharp,  but  not  without  provo- 
cation, however,  foi-,  it  is  said.  Sharp  had  continued 
to  add  insult  to  previous  injury,  which  occasioned  his 
being  killed.  As  a result  of  this  tragedy,  young  Beau- 
champ met  death  on  the  gallows,  despite  that  all  Ken- 
t ucky  1 0'Se  in  cries  for  his  libei-atiou.  This  Beauchamp- 
Sharp  tragedy  is  one  of  the  most  famous  in  the  annals 
of  Kentucky  jurisprudence. 

From  this  fateful  time,  it  is  related,  James  T.  Beau- 
champ mn'er  smiled  and  lived  but  a few  years,  dying 
eventually  of  a broken  heart,  leaving  a beautiful  young 
widow  and  four  little  children,  for  whom  he  had  well 


180 


FIVE  FAMiJUS  MISSOURIAEB. 


provided.  Because  of  tlie  implicit  confidence  reposed 
in  his  wife,  Beauchamp  aa  illed  her  all  his  property,  be- 
lieving that  she  would  be  just  to  her  children.  Scarce- 
ly had  a feAV  years  passed  w^hen  she  married  a man 
named  Mars,  possessed  of  nothing  save  his  debts.  It 
Avas  then  the  law  that  Avhen  a woman  married,  her 
property  became  her  husband’s.  Mars’  creditors,  hear- 
ing of  his  marriage  to  the  widow  of  considerable 
Avealth,  immediately  went  to  Paducah  and  took  all  of 
IMrs.  Beauchamp’s  possessions;  thus  the  Beauchamp 
children  were  left  penniless.  For  four  3'ears,  Mrs. 
Mars  did  all  in  her  poAver  to  provide  for  her  children, 
Avhen  the  typhoid  fever  occasioned  the  death  of  Mars, 
his  Avife,  young  Beauchamp,  aged  fourteen,  and  the  two 
IMars  children,  all  during  one  fall.  Grandmother  Jett 
then  came  to  the  rescue,  took  the  remaining  Beau- 
champ children  to  the  old  Robertson  farm,  now  a part 
of  Avhat  comprises  the  present  site  of  Lawrenceburg,  to 
live  with  her  brother  and  tAvo  sisters,  all  of  whom  were 
very  elderly.  The  children  she  adopted  Avere  Aletha 
Jane,  Margaret,  and  Hiram  Beauchamp. 

Aletha  was  sixteen  years  old  at  that  time,  beautiful 
of  face  and  form,  Avell  educated  for  her  years,  and  a 
musician  of  more  than  ordinary  ability.  Said  one  who 
kneAv  her:  “She  became  a Christian  early  in  her  ’teens, 
and  Avas  ever  true  and  devoted  and  the  sunshine  of  her 
adopted  home.  IIoav  those  old  people  loved  her!  Many 
Avere  made  juAenile  again  by  her  Avarm  and  loving 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


181 


heart.  The  old  house  that  had  stood  nearly  half  a cen- 
tury was  transformed  into  a thing  of  beauty  by  her 
presence,  for  we  saw  her  and  felt  the  influence  of  the 
halo  that  surrounded  her.” 

In  Louis’sille  there  lived  a wealthy  relative  of  hers, 
Mrs.  Miller,  the  wife  of  the  celebrated  Doctor  Miller, 
author  of  medical  works,  who  offered  to  educate  her  in 
any  college,  of  her  choice,  and  introduce  her  to  society, 
but  she  declined  in  these  words:  “My  grandmother 
has  been  kind  to  me;  she  needs  me  now  and  I cannot 
go.”  Mrs.  Letche,  wife  of  Governor  R.  P.  Letche, 
another  cousin  of  her  mother,  also  made  a similar  offer, 
but  her  reply  was  in  substance  the  same:  “My  grand- 

mother must  lean  on  me  in  her  declining  j'ears.”  The 
neighbors  marvelled  at  the  noble  traits  evinced  in  this 
young  girl,  whose  early  life  might  have  been  one  con- 
tinual record  of  pleasure.  Another  woman  who  knew 
her  well  once  said : “We  looked  upon  this  bright  speci- 

men of  humanity  with  wonder.  How  one  so  young  and 
whose  life  had  been  a vale  of  tears  would  be  so  happy 
and  joyous,  living  as  though  life  were  only  love  and 
pleasure,  was  a mystery  to  us.  She  won  all  hearts;  she 
softened  the  hardest  and  infused  light  and  warmth 
into  the  darkest  and  coldest.  She  did  not  care  for 
wealth;  she  could  have  married  rich  and  good  men  too, 
hut  she  said:  ‘I  cannot  make  merchandise  of  myself.’ 
We  want  but  little  here  below,  nor  want  that  little 
long,’  was  a favorite  quotation  of  hers.  It  seemed 


182 


FIVE  FIMOUE  MISmVIUANf^. 


that  the  Spirit  of  God  was  whispering  to  her  that  her 
days  would  be  few.” 

Before  slie  was  twenty,  Aletha  Jane  Beauchamp 
met  a handsome,  intelligent  gentleman  from  New 
Jersey,  whose  name  was  John  Hampton  Clark.  He 
was  a teacher  of  vocal  music  and  a traveling  dentist;  an 
incongruous  combination,  yet  not  out  of  the  ordinary  in 
those  days.  F-ach  was  enamored  of  the  other,  and  a 
year  after  this  acquaintance  began  they  were  married. 
John  Hampton  Claik  and  Aletha  Jane  Beauchamp  are 
tlie  X'arents  of  Chami)  Claik. 

Three  children  Avere  born  to  this  union — Elizabeth. 
Margai-et,  and  Chamj).  A few  years  after  her  marriage, 
and  when  little  Champ  was  but  seA^eral  mouths  over 
three  years  of  age,  the  mother  died,  at  the  early  age  of 
twenty-seven  years.  On  her  death-bed  she  called  to 
lier  children  and  pressed  each  to  her  heart,  saying, 
“They  will  not  remember  their  mother,  but  do,  my  dear 
friends  and  relatives,  tell  them  how  I loved  them.” 
DraAving  her  only  boy.  Chain]),  to  her  bedside,  frequent- 
ly slie  Avoiild  lay  her  hand  upon  his  head  and  say:  “I 

Avaiit  this  little  head  tilled  Avith  wisdom.”  When  she 
realized  that  her  death  was  near,  she  called  for  her 
cousin  and  asked  her  to  care  for  her  only  son;  her  last 
injunction  being  to  have  him  educated  for  the  ministry. 

The  devotioin  of  little  Champ  to  his  mother  was 
wonderful  even  for  one  of  his  precocity.  Although  not 
four  years  of  age,  he  refused  to  leave  her  bedside,  and 


GHAMP  CLARK. 


183 


when  compelled  to  do  so,  cried  so  yociferouslv  that  the 
attendants  were  forced  to  take  him  back.  After  his 
mother  was  buried  and  while  the  funeral  parri’  was 
leaving  the  cemetery,  a shower  of  rain  came  up.  Little 
Cliami)  eluded  his  relatives,  ran  back  to  the  family  lot, 
mounted  his  mother's  grave,  and  declared:  “I  will  not 

leave  my  mamma  in  the  rain.”  It  necessitated  forcible 
means  to  get  the  little  fellow  to  the  house,  where  he 
became  in  a high  state  of  nervous  excitement.  As  a 
result,  brain  fever  came  on,  and  for  many  weeks  the 
child  hovered  between  life  and  death,  but  the  careful 
nursing  of  his  aunt,  Margaret  Beauchamp,  and  his 
Grandmother  Jett  finally  restored  him  to  his  wonted 
health.  During  his  sickness  little  Champ  formed  an 
attachment  for  them  that  was  never  effaced.  The 
father  at  last  deemed  it  best  to  take  the  children  away 
from  the  old  scenes  of  sorrow.  Soon  after  their  depart- 
ure the  good  grandmother  died,  and  his  aunt  married 
one  Captain  Jordan. 

So  much  for  Mr.  Clark's  maternal  ancestors.  His 
I)aterual  grandfather  was  named  Adrial  Clark,  who 
married  Elizabeth  Archer,  a well  known  Quaker  belle  of 
the  ijeriod.  At  one  time  Captain  Clark  was  immensely 
rich,  owning  many  sea-going  vessels,  and  also  was  the 
joint  proprietor  of  very  valuable  glass  works;  but  died 
almost  in  poverty,  his  vessels  being  wrecked  by  storms 
and  his  partner  absconding  with  the  profits  of  the  glass- 
blowing  industry. 


184 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOUFTANS. 


Mr.  Clark’s  father  was  born  near  Little  Egg  Harbor 
in  New  Jersey;  he  was  the  youngest  of  thirteen  chil- 
dren, and  was  named  for  a half-brother,  who  was 
drowned  at  sea  while  sailing  on  one  of  his  father’s 
ships  as  captain  of  the  vessel.  He  was  ambitious  and 
wanted  to  study  for  one  of  the  learned  i>rofessious,  but 
his  mother  was  very  poor  and  unable  to  educate  her 
children,  after  the  death  of  her  husband.  At  an  early 
age  he  was  apprenticed  to  a wagon-  and  buggy-maker 
to  learn  the  trade,  and,  it  is  said,  to  the  day  of  his  death 
he  was  always  vexed  to  see  a poorly  constructed  vehi- 
cle. His  mother’s  apprenticing  him  made  him  angry, 
and  as  soon  as  he  reached  his  majority  he  came  West, 
thereafter  having  no  communication  whatever  with  his 
kindred  in  New  Jersey.  For  several  years  he  followed 
his  trade  in  Kentucky,  when,  his  health  failing,  he  first 
taught  singing  schools  and  then  practiced  dentistry, 
as  has  been  told. 

When  Champ  Clark  was  a child,  his  father  as  an 
itinerant  dentist  rode  around  over  four  or  five  counties 
with  a huge  pair  of  saddle-bags,  one  end  of  which  was 
filled  with  dental  implements,  the  other  with  speeches 
of  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  John  C.  Breckinridge,  and 
other  great  Democrats  of  the  times.  He  was  a natural 
controversialist,  arguing  on  any  subject.  His  convic- 
tions on  politics  and  religion  were  strong,  and  his  prej- 
udices equally  so.  He  Avas  thoroughly  Democratic  in 


VBAMP  CLARK. 


185 


l>olitioal  faith,  with  Thomas  Jefferson  and  Andrew 
Jackson  as  his  political  idols. 

It  is  related  that  while  on  these  journejs  of  mingled 
doctoring  and  preaching,  all  the  Whigs  and  Eepuh- 
lica.ns  on  his  circuit  were  made  miserable  by  his  argu- 
ments for  Democratic  principles  and  by  his  appropriate 
quotations  from  the  speeches  of  Breckinridge  and 
Douglas,  which  he  always  had  at  his  lips’  end.  Said 
one  who  knew  him  well:  “He  would  corner  them  up 

and  argufy  with  them  till  they  were  dizzy,  shooting 
into  them  choice  excerpts  from  these  speeches.”  Al- 
though theoretically  delighting  in  politics,  John  H. 
Clark  was  never  a candidate  for  any  office;  in  fact,  he 
had  no  ambition  to  become  prominent  in  any  field  of 
labor,  which  characterized  him  all  through  life. 

It  is  deplorable  that  he  was  not  educated  and  did 
not  devote  his  time  to  some  intellectual  pursuit.  He 
possessed  but  a rudimentary  English  education,  but 
was  very  well  informed.for  he  was  an  omnivorous  reader 
and  possessed  a large  fund  of  information  on  many 
topics.  Aot  having  the  advantages  of  a college  educa- 
tion himself,  he  determined  that  his  children  should 
have  the  advantages  accruing  from  a higher  education, 
and  he  coustantlj’  urged  them  to  secure  such,  which  both 
of  his  children  eventually  did. 

Toward  the  close  of  his  life,  while  relinquishing 
none  of  his  interest  in  political  issues,  he  devoted  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  to  religious  affairs.  His  knowl- 


186 


FITE  FAMOUS  J77.S'8'01^y^'7.l^■*S'. 


edge  of  the  Bible  was  marvelous,  aud,  like  his  sou,  he 
was  familiar  with  almost  every  passage.  He  auiiotated 
a,  Bible  for  himself,  and  in  au  iustaut  could  find  any 
passage -i-elatiug-  to  any  subject  in  question.  Couceru- 
iug  matters  of  religion  he  was  just  as  ready  and  eager 
to  argue  as  in  matters  ])olitical. 

He  was  possessed  of  no  desire  for  riches,  yet  was 
not  indolent.  It  is  told  that  he  never  possessed,  at  one 
time  in  his  life,  property  or  cniTency  to  the  value  of  five 
hundred  dollars. 

By  nature  he  was  a teachei'  and  was  always  engaged 
in  instructing  some  youth  in  one  manner  or  another. 
M any  men  to-day  in  Kentucky,  ])roniinent  more  or  less 
in  the  ]ml])it,  at  the  bai-,  or  in  the  class-i-oom,  were  in 
youth  jmpils  of  John  Hampton  Clark. 

He  was  an  interesting  conversationalist,  a forcible 
jniblic  speaker,  and  an  excellent  leader,  as  well  as  one 
of  the  best  tellers  of  anecdotes  found  anywhere.  It  is 
readily  discerned  from  whence  Champ  Clark  derived 
many  of  his  characteristics. 

In  personal  appearance  he  was  prepossessing;  a 
man  of  tine  physique,  about  six  feet  tall,  rather  slender, 
and  weighing  105  pounds.  His  hair  was  curly  and  dark 
brown  in  color.  His  eyes  and  head  were  peculiarly 
formed,  one  of  his  optics  being  blue,  the  other  black, 
while  his  head  was  very  large,  most  of  it  being  in  front 
of  his  ears. 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


187 


In  Anderson  County,  Kentucky,  on  March  7,  1850, 
Champ  Clark  was  horn.  The  environments  of  his 
childhood  and  the  incidents  of  his  early  life  have  been 
related. 

MTien  Champ  Clark  was  a child,  he  had  a very  large 
head  and  a small  neck,  which  combination  made  his 
father  fear  that  the  youth  had  a weak  constitution.  So 
he  set  him — with  Yankee  timeliness — to  chinning  poles, 
swinging  on  hand-swings,  and  practicing  other  athletic 
sports  to  develop  his  neck  and  chest.  To  those  who 
have  seen  Mr.  Clark  in  later  life,  it  is  superfluous  to 
state  how  well  he  succeeded,  and  to  those  who  have  not 
seen  him  it  might  be  stated  that  he  wears  a collar 
and  a coat  of  44  inches  chest  measurement.  As  a part 
of  his  physical  training,  Clark's  father  hired  the  youth 
to  work  on  a farm  from  the  time  he  was  large  enough 
to  thin  corn  until  he  was  large  enough  to  do  mostly  as 
he  pleased.  The  farm  of  Clark  ^lontgomery,  on  which 
Chami)  first  worked,  and  for  years  thereafter,  was  poor, 
hilly,  and  rocky.  It  is  said  that  the  limestone  crop  far 
exceeded  the  production  of  corn,  and  that  young  Clark 
must  have  broken  enough  rock  with  a sledge-hammer, 
while  working  for  ^Montgomery,  to  enclose  a townshi]i 
with  a stone  fence. 

As  a farm-hand  Clark  was  a success.  At  the  age  of 
fourteen  there  was  no  man  in  all  the  neighborhood 
where  he  lived  who  could  bind  more  wheat  than  he. 
The  last  money  the  youth  made  on  a farm  was  in  I860, 


188 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MIS80URIAES. 


when  David  Best,  a neighboring  farmer,  paid  him 
twelve  dollars  for  binding  wheat  six  days. 

When  he  was  somewhat  over  fourteen  years  of  age. 
Champ  tired  of  farm-work  and  determined  to  engage 
in  some  more  remunerative  labor,  and  accordingly  ap- 
plied for  the  position  of  clerk  in  a country  store  at  the 
Cross-roads  about  half-way  between  Mackville  and 
Willisburg.  The  country  merchant  accepted  the  ap- 
idication  and  Champ  served  in  the  cajjacity  of  clerk 
about  three  months.  In  those  days  in  Kentucky,  guer- 
rillas and  thieves  were  prevalent.  One  day  the  propri- 
etor was  going  away,  and  before  he  left  he  instructed 
Champ,  in  case  he  received  considerable  money  that 
day,  to  secrete  it  in  some  out-of-the-way  place  in  the 
store.  The  advice  was  heeded — to  the  sorrow  of 
Champ.  About  one  hundred  dollars’  worth  of  goods 
was  sold  that  day  and  Champ  hid  the  proceeds  where  it 
was  impossible  for  a robber  to  discover  the  where- 
abouts. The  next  day,  upon  his  employer’s  return, 
when  Champ  went  to  get  the  money,  he  found  that  rob- 
bers had  not  molested  it,  but  alas!  the  rats  and  mice 
had  found  it  and  had  cut  it  into  such  small  bits  that 
one  could  not  distinguish  between  a twenty-dollar  bill 
and  a two.  Champ’s  dreams  of  becoming  a merchant 
prince  then  ended — as  did  his  career  as  clerk.  He  went 
back  to  the  farm  and  worked  for  a few  months  once 
more  as  a farm-hand. 


GEAMP  GLARE. 


189 


But  this  sort  of  work  was  not  congenial  to  young 
Champ,  so  he  got  up  a subscription  school  in  the  same 
neighborhood  where  he  had  gone  to  school,  having 
for  his  pupils  many  of  his  former  fellow-pupils.  Mr. 
Clark  encountered  many  difficulties  in  this  school;  the 
scholars  who  had  been  his  former  school-mates  were 
inclined  to  be  too  familiar  and  not  to  obey  the  rules, 
but  Clark,  before  many  weeks  had  passed,  made  them 
understand  that  he  was  master  of  the  situation,  and 
before  the  school  closed  it  is  doubtful  if  there  was  ever 
a more  thoroughly  disciplined  school.  From  that  day 
to  the  time  he  quit  teaching,  he  never  had  any  difficulty 
in  obtaining  a position  as  a teacher.  Mr.  Clark  does 
not  believe  in  corporal  punishment  now,  but  he  did  then 
— it  was  necessitated,  and  the  boys  who  were  rebellious 
were  made  to  obey  by  force  of  that  muscle  acquired  in 
wielding  the  sledge,  the  axe,  the  maul,  the  scythe,  and 
the  cradle. 

It  soon  came  about  that,  boy  though  he  was,  young 
Clark  was  sent  for  to  teach  in  unruly  districts  and  at 
more  than  usual  prices. 

Undoubtedly  Champ  Clark  began  school-teaching 
as  early  in  life  as  anyone  in  the  world.  He  was  biit 
fourteen  when  he  began  the  life  of  a pedagogue, 
“Once  upon  a time,”  said  Mr.  Clark  one  day,  “a  dis- 
tinguished Missouri  statesman  was  nominated  for  Vice- 
President.  He  was  a graduate  from  Yale,  and  shortly 
after  his  nomination  he  attended  a Yale  Alumni 


190 


FIVE  FAMOUIS  MIl^SOVniANS. 


banquet.  It  was  charged  by  the  opposition  papers 
that  lie  was  drunk  on  that  occasion.  He  made  an 
astounding  and  equirocal  answer.  He  did  not  plead 
Huilty.’  He  did  not  plead  ‘iSTot  guilty.’  He  simply 
said,  ‘I  have  been  a temperance  man  all  my  life — at 
intervals.’  So,  I was  a school-teacher  at  intervals 
from  the  time  I was  between  fourteen  and  fifteen  until 
I was  past  thirty-six.” 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Mr.  Clark  witnessed  a 
lawsuit,  which  made  a vivid  impression  ui)on  his  mind 
and  occasioned  his  receiving  an  awful  tanning.  It  was 
a preliminary  trial  in  a justice  court  at  Mackville,  Ken- 
tucky; for  assault  with  intent  to  kill.  One  of  Kous- 
seau’s  famous  “Louisville  Legion,”  a wdld  and  reckless 
fellow^  got  his  leg  fractured  by  a musket  ball  at  tlu^ 
battle  of  Shiloh  and  wms  home  on  a furlough.  There 
was  no  saloon  then  at  Mackville,  but  a druggist  named 
Perkins,  a New  Yorker,  administered  to  the  thirsty  by 
selling  them  “Log  Cabin  Bitters,”  which  consisted  jirin- 
cipally  of  the  vilest  article  of  whisky  ever  put  into  a 
bottle.  A half-pint  of  the  stuff  w'as  sufficient  to  prompt 
a man  to  commit  almost  any  deed. 

On  Christmas  eve  the  boys  “tanked  up”  on  the  Log- 
Cabin  Bitters,  Tom  Peters  among  the  rest.  After  he 
became  hilarious  in  his  inebriety,  Perkins  refused  to 
sell  him  more  and  they  got  into  a quarrel,  which  ended 
by  Peters  running  after  Perkins  with  a knife  and  the 
latter  shooting  Peters  through-and-through  with  an 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


191 


old  single-barreled  pistol,  then  a favorite  fire-arm.  For 
several  weeks  Peters  hovered  between  life  and  death, 
but  finally  got  sufficiently  better  to  have  his  statement 
taken  and  written  down.  Then  the  preliminary  came 
on.  The  prosecuting  attorney,  one  Charles  Butner, 
was  renowned  more  as  a wit  and  a wag  than  as  a 
lawyer  of  keen  ability;  therefore,  Peters’  friends  em- 
ployed Hon.  Bob  Harding,  subsequently  chief  justice 
of  Kentucky’s  Supreme  Court,  to  assist  Butner  in  the 
prosecution.  Perkins,  not  to  be  outdone,  retained  J. 
Proctor  Knott,  since  world-famous,  and  the  rural  com- 
munity of  Mackville  and  the  people  of  the  surrounding 
country  were  out  in  large  numbers  to  hear  and  se<! 
these  two  able  and  distinguished  disciples  of  Sir 
'WTlliam  Blackstone.  Champ  ran  off  from  school  to 
witness  that  forensic  battle,  though  he  knew  that  his 
father  Avould  inflict  upon  him  a dreadful  whipping — 
which  he  did;  but  Champ  attended  his  first  trial  and 
was  convinced  that  it  was  well  worth  the  subsequent 
thrashing. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  trial,  they  put  upon  the 
witness-stand  a well-known  Springfield  surgeon.  Dr. 
Frank  Polin,  to  testify  as  to  the  probabilities  of 
Peters’  recovery.  Polin  was  somewhat  intoxicated. 
He  said:  “Peters  will  apptarently  get  well.  He  will 

get  up  and  get  as  fat  as  a butter-ball;  but  he  will  die  in 
less  than  three  years  from  that  bullet-wound,  and  will 


—13— 


192 


FIVE  FAM0V8  MI8S0VKIAE8. 


turn  green  as  a gourd  before  he  dies — for  he  is  shot 
squarely  through  the  liver.” 

This  was  the  youthful  Chain] >’s  first  knowledge  of 
the  fact  that  a man  possessed  a liver,  or  that,  if  he  had 
one,  it  could  be  classed  among  the  vital  organs.  The 
statement  of  the  surgeon  made  a deeji  impression  on 
the  mind  of  young  Clark  and  he  watched  Peters  as  a 
hawk  watches  a chicken.  Peters  got  up.  He  became 
as  fat  as  a butter-ball,  so  to  speak,  and  died  in  less  than 
three  years — all  as  Polin  had  predicted — in  the  Kocky 
Mountains,  while  driving  cattle  to  California.  Whether 
he  turned  green  as  a gourd  is  not  known,  but  one  thing 
certain — as  Champ  vividly  remembers — tliat  night  his 
beloved  father  made  the  youth’s  back  red  as  a lobster 
with  a hickory  withe,  which  in  the  retrospect  appears 
to  Mr.  Clark  that  they  grew  tougher  in  Kentucky  than 
elsewhere. 

The  justice  bound  over  Perkins,  the  grand  jury  in- 
dicted him,  and  the  petit  jury  acquitted  him  on  grounds 
of  self-defense. 

Since  this  memorable  trial,  Mr.  Clark  has  been  con- 
cerned in  many  tiials,  but  none  ever  fascinated  him  as 
did  that  of  the  “Commonwealth  against  Perkins.” 
Knott  and  Harding  were  in  the  flower  of  their  years, 
and  Butner  was  the  most  comical  human  monkey  that 
ever  appeared  in  court. 

While  Clark  was  teaching  in  the  public  schools 
of  Kentucky,  Mr.  'William  Stevens,  locally  known  as 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


193 


“Uncle  Billie”  Stevens,  of  Camden,  Anderson  Comity, 
Kentucky,  offered  to  educate  Clark  at  any  college  in 
America  or  Europe  if  lie  would  become  a preacher  in 
the  Christian  Church,  and  on  another  occasion  offered 
him  the  education  and  one-half  of  his  estate,  then  con 
sidered  a large  one,  so  to  do;  both  of  which  generous 
offers  he  declined, ‘intending  all  the  time  to  become  a 
lawyer.  These  offers  of  “Uncle  Billie”  were  very 
fempting  ami  would  have  saved  Mr.  Clark  a great  deal 
of  hard  work,  some  years  of  time,  and  many  vicissi- 
tudes. He  was  a tall,  lank,  awkward,  green,  gawky 
boy.  All  his  worldly  possessions  consisted  of  |150  and 
a gold  watch  worth  about  .'fTo,  which  he  had  earned  by 
teaching  school — a small  beginning  for  a college  educa- 
tion. The  acceptance  of  “Uncle  Billie's”  proj)osition 
would  have  made  his  way  ( asy ; but,  whil  ^ Chirk  always 
i-egarded  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  as  the  highest  voca 
lion  known  among  men,  he  declined  the  tempting  oimr- 
tures  for  fear  that,  when  fully  growu-ni),  he  might  not 
have  his  whole  heart  in  preaching,  which  Mr.  Clark 
deemed  right  and  essential  to  success  in  the  ministry. 

But  if  “Uncle  Billie”  Stevens  did  not  succeed  in 
making  a preacher  out  of  Clark,  he  did  make  a Sunday- 
school  teacher  and  superintendent  of  him.  While  he 
was  teaching  the  public  school  at  Camden,  he  boarded 
with  “Uncle  Billie,”  and  the  latter  persisted  until  he 
succeeded  in  getting  Clark  to  first  teach  a class,  ami 
eventually  he  was  chosen  superintendent  of  the  organi- 


194 


Fivn  I’’.!  14017, S'  MIFFOVIUANH. 


zatioii.  As  ill  almost  evei-ytliing  else,  lie  made  a suc- 
cess of  it.  He  taught  the  childreu  music — the  round- 
note  syslem — in  (he  school,  introducing  Sunday-school 
literal  lire,  and  made  the  school  so  interesting  that 
jieojile  came  for  miles  evei'y  Sunday,  when  the  weath- 
er was  jiropitious,  to  hear  the  children  sing.  In  this 
connection  might  he  interjiolated  that  he  afterward 
organiz(‘d  a class  of  grown-up  men  and  women  for  the 
Sunday-schools  at  Louisiana,  Missouri,  and  later,  one 
of  the  same  sort  at  Howling  (Ireeu,  his  present  home. 

The  foregoing  disiu-oves  one  of  the  jiopular  fictions 
coiiceruiiig  Cliaiui)  ( hark — that  he  was  educated  for  the 
( 'hristian  ministry. 

In  18()T,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  Champ  Clark 
entered  the  University  of  Kentucky,  at  Lexington.  The 
requisite  money  for  tuition  and  other  expenses  he  had 
acciimnlated  by  teaching  school. 

Champ  Clark  was  at  Kentucky  University  three 
years.  His  career  there,  as  well  as  at  other  institu- 
tions he  attended,  was  characterized  by  application  to 
his  studies  and  brilliancw  in  the  class-room.  He  was 
universally  first  in  all  his  classes. 

Mr.  Clark,  however,  was  not  graduated  from  the 
University,  but  at  the  end  of  three  years  he  resumed  the 
vocation  of  teaching  at  the  Camden  [uiblic  school.  As 
one  of  the  queer  experiences  of  a busy  life,  a man  sixty- 
four  years  old — a veteran  teacher — went  to  school  to 
him  to  learn  to  read  the  Kew  Testament  in  Greek.  The 


CEAMP  CLARK. 


195 


old  man  would  hear  Clark’s  classes  recite  for  two  hours 
daily  iu  exchange  for  one  hour  devoted  by  Clark  to 
teaching  him  Greek.  During  Clark’s  three  years  in  the 
University  he  had  become  very  proficient  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  that  ancient  language. 

An  insatiable  desire  for  higher  education  has  al- 
ways been  one  of  the  distinct  traits  of  Champ  Clark's 
personality.  So  in  1872  he  determined  to  resume  his 
collegiate  studies,  accordingly  entering  Bethany  Col- 
lege, located  at  Bethany,  West  Virginia. 

With  unusual  power  and  persistence  do  the  echoes 
of  the  footsteps  of  men  of  genius  linger  in  the  halls  of 
learning.  The  great  English  University,  Cambridge, 
was  first  the  Cambridge  of  Milton,  then  of  Byron,  and 
lastly  of  Tennyson.  In  like  manner  Oxford  has  be- 
come associated  witli  the  names  of  ^Vddison,  Arnold, 
and  Gladstone.  In  America  we  find  many  instances  of 
this.  The  University  of  Virginia  is  rich  in  memories  of 
Edgar  Allen  Toe,  while  the  career  of  Eugene  Field  at 
Colundjia  has  become  one  of  Missouri  University's 
traditions. 

80,  at  Bethany  College,  is  the  record  of  Champ 
('lark’s  career  in  that  institution  of  learning,  one  that 
is  yet  talked  of  by  the  students,  faculty,  and  folk  about, 
and  has  since  never  been  surpassed. 

As  stated,  he  entered  Bethany  College  in  1872.  On 
July  15th  of  that  year  he  arrived  at  Bethany.  During 
Ihe  following  year  he  took  one-fourth  the  Sophomore 


196 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


year,  one-lialf  the  Junior,  and  the  full  Senior,  and  stood 
lirst  in  every  class — a record  probably  unprecedented. 
As  lirst-honor  man  of  a graduating  class  of  twenty-six, 
the  duty  of  delivering  the  Latin  Salutatoi\v  devolved 
upon  Clark.  In  addition  to  his  rank  in  the  class-room. 
Champ  Clark  was  first  in  forensic  ability  and  surpassed 
by  none  in  the  literary  exercises  in  which  he  partici- 
pated. As  a writer,  even  at  that  time,  he  began  to  as- 
sume prominence  by  his  contributions  to  various  relig- 
ious and  political  periodicals.  It  may  not  be  generally 
known,  but  at  that  period  of  his  life  he  had  attained 
more  than  local  distinction  as  a poet  of  genius.  He 
also  translated  coiisiderable  German  poetry  into  Eng- 
lish metrical  composition,  which  was  published  in 
vanous  publications  under  the  nom  de  guerre  “Sans 
I-'eur.” 

The  local  newspaper,  in  giving  an  account  of  the 
commencement  exercises  of  Bethany  College,  at  the 
time  of  Mr.  Clark’s  graduation,  gave  this  biography  of 
him;  “Chant]:*  Clark,  the  honor  man  of  the  classical 
cnurse,  is  a young  man  of  marked  talent  and  varied  at- 
tainments. He  is  2.3  years  of  age,  G feet  2 inches  in 
height,  and  is  a hearty,  robust  young  chap,  and  looks 

the  true  chivalrous  Kentuckian 

He  fitted  himself  for  a teacher,  and  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen commenced  teaching  in  a rude,  backwoods  school- 
house,  where  he  was  forced  to  carry  a pair  of  biavies’  to 
and  from  school  to  keep  the  old  folks  from  ‘consuming 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


197 


him.’  In  1867  he  entered  the  Kentucky  University, 
where  he  studied  three  years  and  was  universally  first 
in  all  the  classes.  After  quitting  the  University,  he 
taught  school  for  two  years.  On  the  15th  of  July 
last  (1872),  after  many  invitations  from  the  faculty  to 
re-enter  the  Kentucky  University,  he  arrived  at  Beth- 
any. During  the  year  he  has  taken  one-fourth  the 
Sophomore  year,  oiie-half  the  Junior,  and  the  full 
Senior,  and  has  stood  first  in  every  class.  In  the 
future  Mr.  Clark  intends  to  ])raotice  law,  and  will, 
from  his  proclivities  and  tastes,  eventually  become 
a jioliticiaii.  For  him  we  predict  a lirilliant  future, 
and  every  person  who  knows  him  (and  all  who  know 
him  love  him)  will  join  with  us  in  wishing  that 
Champ  (dark  may  in  the  world  do  what  he  has  done  at 
Bethany — viz.,  carry  off  the  highest  honors,” 

A few  days  after  he  was  graduated  from  Bethany, 
Colonel  Alexander  Cami)hell,  of  AAst  Virginia,  sou  of 
the  famous  theologian,  asked  Clark  what  he  intended 
doing  in  the  future.  He  replied  that  he  was  going  to 
teach  a year  or  so  and  then  practice  law.  He  told  Clark 
to  write  out  an  application,  give  it  to  him,  and  he 
thought  he  could  secure  a college  ])residency  for  the 
young  graduate.  Having  no  idea  that  such  a thing  was 
possible,  Clark  wrote  an  application,  which  must  have 
taken  away  the  breath  of  the  college  curators  and 
which,  it  is  likely,  on  account  of  uniqueness  and  the 
confidence  expressed,  secured  him  a position.  The  ap- 


198 


FIVE  FAM0V8  .MISSOURLANS. 


plication  read:  “I  liave  just  graduated  at  Bethany 

willi  highest  honors,  am  23  years  old,  over  0 feet  high, 
weigh  170  pounds,  iiumai-ried,  am  a Kentuckian  by 
birtli,  a Cami)bellite  in  religion,  a Democrat  in  politics, 
and  a Master  Mason.” 

]\Ir.  Chuic  did  not  secure  the  presidency  of  the 
school,  lV>st  Libei-ty  State  Kornial,  for  wducli  he  had 
applied,  but  was  surprised  a few  days  later  when  he 
was  notified  that  he  had  been  elected,  not  president 
of  t^'est  Lilierty,  but  of  Marshall  College,  the  first 
noruud  school  of  West  Virginia,  located  at  Hunting 
((tn,  at  a better  salary.  At  this  time  he  was  but 
Iweiity-three  years  of  age,  and  umjuestionably  the 
youngest  college  president  in  the  world.  In  1899  John 
Henry  IMcCracken,  of  New  York,  at  the  age  of  tweuty- 
foui',  was  elected  ju-esident  of  Wstminster  College  at 
Fulton,  Mo.  The  newspapers  of  the  country,  in  giving 
the  occasion  wide  ]tublicity  and  commenting  upon  the 
youllifulness  of  the  new  president,  stated  that  he  was 
the  youngest  man  ever  elected  to  a college  presidency. 
This  statement  was  certainly  erroneous,  foi'  Mr.  Clark 
was  one  3'ear  the  junior  of  I’resident  McCracken. 

Because  of  Clark's  youth,  a number  of  the  students 
at  Marshall,  some  of  whom  were  older  than  the  pres- 
ident, concluded  that  they  could  conduct  themselves  to 
suit  their  own  fancies,  but  this  conclusion  proved  an 
illusion.  Clark  soon  undeceived  them. 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


199 


Oue  incident  served  to  dispel  the  students’  hope  of 
many  “larks”  under  the  Clark  regime.  Soon  after  his 
term  began,  four  young  men  blacked  and  greased  the 
face  of  a fellow-student  while  he  slept,  an  act  that 
greatly  humiliated  the  victim.  He  made  complaint  to 
the  young  president,  who,  upon  investigation,  discov- 
ered the  guilty  ones.  Hunting  up  the  perpetrators,  he 
said:  “Boys,  you  did  wrong,  and  you  must  do  the  man- 

ly thing  and  apologize  publicly  at  chapel  exercises.” 
Three  of  them  did  so  cheerfully,  but  the  fourth  declared 
that  he  would  not.  President  Clark  said  to  him;  “One 
of  three  things  will  happen — you  will  apologize  public- 
ly, I will  expel  you  publicly,  or  I will  thrash  you  within 
an  inch  of  your  life.”  To  this  the  student  rejdied  with 
a question,  “How  much  time  will  you  give  me  to  reflect 
upon  these  propositions?”  “One  hour,  sir,”  answered 
the  president.  At  the  expiration  of  the  allotted  time, 
the  offender  returned  and  said:  “I  don't  want  to  be 

exi)elled;  I don't  want  to  tight;  I will  apologize.’’  He 
did,  and  henceforth  was  one  of  the  president's  staunch- 
est friends  and  most  industrious  students.  There  was 
no  more  trouble  in  maintaining  discipline. 

Champ  Clark  held  the  presidency  of  Marshall  Col- 
lege but  one  year  when  he  resigned  to  enter  the 
Cincinnati  Law  School. 


CHAPTER  II. 


KART.Y  STRUGGLES  AND  ULTIMATE  SUCCESS. 

—HE  BECOMES  A MISSOURIAN 
BY  ADOPTION. 

It  was  ill  1874  that  Champ  Clark  bef^aii  the  study  of 
law  at  Ciuciiiiiati.  He  remained  a student  at  the  Law 
School  for  one  year;  then,  upon  graduation  from  the 
Cincinnati  institul  ion,  lie  determined  to  locate  in 
Kansas. 

In  the  law  class  at  Cincinnati  was  a.  man  several 
years  older  than  Clark,  named  Thomas  Jefferson  Hud 
son,  popularly  called  Jeff  Hudson,  from  Fredonia, 
Kansas.  Before  coming  to  the  law  school,  Hudson 
had  been  a member  of  the  Kansas  Legislature  and 
prosecuting  attorney  of  his  county  and  had  built  uji  a 
good  law  pi-actice.  While  they  were  attending  law 
school  in  the  winter  of  1874  u,  as  Mr.  Clark  once  styled 
it,  “Gen.  Phil  Sheridan  was  jiitching  a Democratic 
legislature  out  of  the  window  with  his  liayonets  down 
in  New  Orleans.”  The  law  lectures  were  at  night,  and 
aftei’  they  were  over,  the  students  would  resolve  them- 
selves into  a politi<-al  debating  society,  characterized 
by  the  rivalry  and  intense  interest  manifested.  Bryan, 
of  Covington,  Kentucky,  afterwards  lieutenant-gov- 
ernor of  that  State,  Jeff  Hudson,  and  Champ  Clark 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


201 


were  conspicuously  among  those  who  upheld  the  Dem 
ocratic  side,  and,  although  outnumbered  three  to  one, 
they  fought  these  battles  with  a forensic  fierceness  un- 
precedented. A fellow-feeling  makes  men  “wondrous 
kind”  and  congenial.  Hudson  and  Clark  became  fast 
friends,  and  as  a result  the  former  proposed  to  Clark 
to  go  to  Fredouia  and  assume  a law  partnership,  agree- 
ing to  give  Clark  one-third  the  profits  the  first  year  and 
one-half  every  year  thereafter.  Mr.  Clark  accepted, 
and  started  to  Kansas  “to  grow'  up  with  the  country,’’ 
yet  he  never  went  to  Fredouia — in  fact,  has  never  seen 
the  town. 

He  sto]iped  at  Eni})oria  to  visit  a man  named  Lynn, 
a Kentucky  University  class-mate.  He  induced  Clark 
to  believe  that  Adchita  was  a veritable  paradise  for 
lawyers.  To  use  his  words,  “Wichita  is  the  center  of 
the  Texas  cattle  trade.  Greasers  are  constantly  cut- 
ting each  other's  throats  and  Spanish  milled  dollars 
are  rolling  around  loose.”  With  the  enthusiasm  of 
youth,  Clark  wrote  to  Hudson,  cancelled  their  partner- 
ship, and  went  to  Wichita.  Arriving  there,  he  dis- 
C(»vered  that  ihe  Texas  cattle  trade,  like  the  Levite,  had 
gone  by  on  the  other  sid<^ — to  Great  Bend;  the  festive, 
throat-cutting  Greaser  was  non  esf,  and  the  Spanish 
milled  dollars  were  scarce  as  living  Spaniards  in  Monte- 
jo's  th^et  after  the  battle  of  Manila.  In  fact,  at  that 
time,  A\  i(  hita.  was  experiencing  her  first  financial  de 
pression,  and  the  prospect  of  a grasshopper  plague  made 


202 


FITE  F AMOVE  MISEOURIAFE. 


everybody  restless  and  most  anxious  to  get  away.  To 
be  laconic,  Mr.  Clark  “got”;  going  on  twenty-live  dol- 
lars, wliicli  a student  at  Kentucky  University  sent  liim 
for  writing  the  collegian  a graduating  speech. 

Of  his  eleven  weeks’  residence  in  Kansas,  Mr.  Clark, 
growing  reminiscent,  once  said:  “The  grasshoppers 

drove  me  out  of  the  Sunflower  State.  That  was  the 
year  Grovernor  Hardin  prayed  them  out  of  Missouri. 
People  can  make  fun  of  that  performance  as  much  as 
they  please;  but  I believe  that  prayers  are  ausw'ered 
and  that  the  prayers  of  Missourians  saved  the  State 
from  devastation  by  the  Rocky  Mountain  pests.”' 

Clark  did  not  see  Jett  Hudson  again  until  the  ses- 
sions of  the  Fifty-third  Congress,  when  they  sat  side  by 
side  in  Congress  and  fought  together  the  same  battles 
Ihey  fought  in  pairs  in  that  improvised  political  de- 
bating societ3"  in  the  Cincinnati  Law  School. 

For  once  l\Ir.  Clark  was  disconcerted  in  his  enthusi- 
asm foi-  Ihe  ]>rofession,  and  determined  to  abandon  its 
l>ractice,  temporarily  at  least,  and  re-engage  in  teach- 
ii)g.  He  came  to  ^lobeiiy,  iMissouri,  not  knowing  a 
dozen  ])cople  in  the  State  and  not  knowng  where  they 
were  located.  He  was  iiractically  penniless  and  began 
to  searcli  for  a school.  He  found  one  at  Reuick,  Ran 
dolph  County,  at  tifty-tive  dollars  a month.  He  ex- 
plained to  the  directors  that  he  would  not  have  it  save 
for  the  fact  that  he  did  not  possess  a cent.  They  were 
kind  enough  to  insert  a clause  in  the  contract  releasing 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


203 


him,  provided  he  could  get  a better  position,  which  he 
did  and  purely  by  accident.  The  man  (named  Ruther- 
ford) to  whom  he  went  for  a certificate  was  a native 
of  Pike  County,  and  when  Clark  exhibited  his  diplomas, 
certificates,  etc.,  said:  “You  are  very  foolish  to  accept 

that  school.  Judge  Orr,  of  Louisiana,  Missouri,  was 
here  to-day,  and  he  told  me  that  Professor  Osborn  had 
l)een  elected  president  of  the  Warrensl)urg  Normal, 
thereby  leaving  the  superiutendency  of  the  Louisiana 
schools  vacant.  It  is  worth  flSOO  a year.  Go  down 
and  get  it.”  Clark  went,  got  the  second  place  at  .flOO 
a month,  and  taught  one  year.  This  was  in  1875.  In 
the  spring  of  18TG  he  quit  teaching  for  the  remainder 
of  his  life.  As  a teacher  in  Louisiana,  Champ  Clark  was 
efficient  and  gave  complete  satisfaction.  In  reminisc- 
ing over  his  (last  life,  Mr.  Clark  says  his  school-teaching 
days  were  his  happiest.  In  an  address  before  an  as- 
semblage of  teachers  he  once  said : 

“In  looking  back  to  my  career  as  a teacher,  I have 
one  abiding  consolation  and  it  is  this:  Wherever 

my  pupils  are,  by  land  or  sea,  and  in  whatever  oc- 
cupation they  are  employed,  they  are  my  sworn 
friends.  That  glory  cannot  l)e  taken  away  from 
me.  I hear  one  of  them  j^reach  occasionally,  and 
I take  jjride  in  the  fact  that  some  people  say  he  speaks 
like  me.  When  I was  in  the  crisis  of  my  political 
career,  another,  voluntarily  and  without  being  asked, 
sent  me  more  money  than  any  other  three  men  in 


204 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOVRTAFS. 


the  State,  and  wouldn’t  even  take  my  note  as  evidence 
of  the  debt.  Such  pupils  are  a joy  forever. 

“I  sometimes  regret  that  I ever  quit  teaching,  for 
while  I have  succeeded  fairly  well  in  both  law  and  poli- 
tics, a lawyer  is  not  always  certain  that  he  has  ren- 
dered the  State  a service  by  acquitting  his  client,  and 
a congressman,  through  ignorance  or  inadvertence, 
may  vote  in  such  a way  as  to  adversely  affect  the  for- 
tunes of  70,000,000  people;  but  a teaclier  knows  that  he 
is  doing  good  when  teaching  the  alphabet,  Ihe  ninlli- 
plication  table,  and  the  rudiments  of  grammar  and 
geography.  It  is  oiil}'-  wdien  he  strikes  history  that  his 
feet  get  into  Ihe  (piicksands.” 

Thus  it  was  that  Chaiiq)  Clark  came  to  locate  in  Pike 
County,  INIissouii,  a county  rich  in  history  and  liistor- 
ical  characters.  It  existed  before  Missouri  as  a State 
was  formed  and  admitted  to  the  Union,  and  ever  since 
‘‘Joe  Bowers  and  his  brother  Ike  came  all  the  way  from 
Pike”  its  name  has  been  known  to  all  the  civilized 
world. 

In  the  summer  of  1876,  during  the  heated  Tilden- 
Hayes  campaign,  Mr.  Clark  edited  the  Louisiana  Daily 
News  with  his  usual  ability  and  perspicacity. 

Although  he  tried  one  law-suit  in  a justice  court  at 
Cincinnati  while  attending  law  school,  which  he  gained 
and  of  which  lie  was  very  proud,  and  although  he  filed 
one  petition  in  the  district  court  at  AVichita,  he  never 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


205 


really  began  practicing  law  until  the  sninmer  of  1876, 
at  Louisiana,  after  his  school  closed. 

As  most  law}'ers  of  experience  will  testify,  the  law 
is  abont  the  slowest  of  all  professions  in  which  to  get  a 
start.  IVebster's  splendiferous  dictum,  ‘“There  is  room 
at  the  top”- — which  is  partly  fallacious — induces  many 
a stout  young  fellow  to  waste  several  of  the  best  3’ears 
of  life  practically  starving,  while  waiting  for  a practice. 
Getting  a start  in  Tike  Countj“  in  1876-7-8  was  an  aggra- 
vatingly  tedious  process,  for  there  were  twice  as  many 
lawyers — good  ones,  too — as  the  legal  business  justi- 
tied.  Clark  endeavored  to  practice  for  three  years  be- 
fore he  secured  a case  out  of  which  Daniel  tVebster, 
ratiick  Henry,  or  even  Ben  Hardin  could  have  made 
any  reputation,  could  they  have  returmul  to  earth  in 
the  prime  of  life. 

In  October,  1876,  during  the  Tilden-Hayes  cam- 
paign, it  so  happened  that  David  A.  Ball  and  Chainj) 
Clark  together  made  a stumxjing  tour  of  Bike  County. 
One  result  of  that  association  was  that  Ball  and  Clark 
formed  a partnership,  beginning  January  1,  1877,  and 
continuing  for  fourteen  months,  when  they  dissolved 
partnership  by  mutual  consent  and  with  mutual  good- 
will, Ball  to  run  for  prosecuting  attorney  of  Bike  Conn- 
t}',  Clark  to  make  the  race  for  representative  from  the 
Eastern  District  of  Bike  County.  In  the  Democratic 
primary  that  preceded  this  race,  Clark  defeated  Hugh 
C.  Duffy,  who  was  afterwards  in  the  Legislature,  but  at 


206 


FlYE  FAMOUS  MISSOUIlIAFfS. 


the  general  election  he  was  defeated  by  Enoch  Pepper, 
now  of  Los  Angeles,  California.  This  was  in  1878,  the 
year  of  the  Greenback  enthusiasm,  and  Pepper’s  Green- 
back proclivities,  aided  by  a Eepublican  alliance,  occa- 
sioned Mr.  Clark’s  defeat.  The  position  of  the  Demo- 
cratic nominee  for  Congress  had  largely  to  do  with  the 
defeat  of  Clark.  The  congressional  candidate  was  op- 
posed to  the  position  taken  very  largely  by  the  people 
of  the  county,  and  his  position  weakened  candidates 
for  legislative  offices. 

The  law  partnership  of  Clark  and  Ball  ended  March 
1,  1878.  Since  that  time  they  have  been  the  closest 
friends.  In  their  political  encounters  and  canvasses 
each  has  assisted  the  other  in  all  ways  honorable,  and 
naturally  their  relations  have  ever  been  friendly  and 
harmonions.  Of  their  early  struggles  as  lawyers  and 
his  appreciation  of  Mr.  Ball’s  character  and  ability,  Mr. 
Clark  has  said;  “Though  Ball  had  been  practicing  two 
or  three  years  at  the  time  we  dissolved  partnership, 
and  though  he  is  now  one  of  the  best  trial  lawyers  in 
Missouri,  has  a large  and  lucrative  practice,  and  has 
won  triumphs  in  the  Supreme  Court  of  which  any  law- 
yer may  be  proud,  at  that  time  it  was  very  short  graz 
ing  with  us.  The  Pike  County  bar  has  always  been 
strong.  At  that  time  it  was  unusually  so,  having  upon 
its  rolls  sixty-seven  licensed  lawyers,  about  forty  of 
them  in  more  or  less  active  practice.  Ball  was  elected 
prosecuting  attorney,  State  senator,  and  became  lieu- 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


207 


teiiaut-govei-iioi-.  He  is  destined  for  higher  honors.  A 
more  generous  man  never  lived,  wliile  in  his  vocabulary 
there  is  no  such  word  as  fail.” 

Clark's  ])redilectiou  for  newspaper  work  again 
manifested  itself,  and  on  October  1, 1879,  he  bought  the 
Jlicerside  Press,  of  Louisiana,  from  J.  C.  Jamison, 
Hitherto  the  Press  had  been  an  independent  imper,  but 
Clark  converted  it  into  an  organ  of  pure  Democracy. 
For  eleven  months  he  successfully  edited  the  publica- 
tion. It  sparkled  with  scintillating  wit,  was  dignified 
with  logic,  and  re]:)lete  with  the  many  original  adapta- 
tions of  the  figures  of  i-hetoric  which  none  other  than 
( 'hamp  (Park  can  apply.  His  reputation  as  a writei-  at 
this  time  became  more  than  provincial.  The  paper 
attained  a wide  circulation  under  his  editorship. 

Of  Ml'.  Clark's  disposition  and  character  several 
stories  of  incidents  occurring  about  this  period  of  his 
life  are  told. 

Those  who  knew  him  best  in  those  days  liked  him 
best.  His  intimate  friends  generously  i-egarded  and 
considered  him  a true  man.  He  was  generous  to  the 
last  degree.  His  friends  have  often  seen  him  borrow 
money  to  give  to  beggars,  then  work  to  repay  the  debt. 
When  approached  by  alms-seekers,  he  would  listen  to 
their  tales  and  gruffly  tell  them  to  wait  a minute,  then 
borrow  what  he  desired  to  give  them,  if  he  did  not  then 
possess  it,  and  hand  the  amount  to  the  beggars  with  a 


—14— 


208 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI AFS. 


snarl;  but  lie  was  always  as  liberal  as  liis  means 
permitted. 

Pike  County  in  those  days  was  peopled  with  varied 
sorts  of  cdiaractei'S  and  many  instances  show  that  the 
times  had  not  quite  cooled  from  the  stirring  scenes  of 
bordei-  and  ]>ioneer  days.  David  A.  Ball  tells  the 
following  anecdote  with  great  glee,  as  indicating 
I he  method  ]\Ir.  Clark  had  of  dealing  with  obstreper- 
ous l*ike  Conntians:  “Adien  Champ  Clark  and  I 

were  partners  in  1ST7,’’  says  Mi“.  Ball,  “he  kejit  me 
fi-om  getting  an  awful  thrashing.  Clark  was  an 
nnnsnally  tine  specimen  of  physical  manhood  in  those 
days,  tall,  athletic,  without  a pound  of  surplus  flesh, 
and  with  muscles  of  steel.  He  was  just  out  of  school, 
where,  among  other  things,  he  had  practiced  in  gym- 
nasinms  foi*  hours  daily  at  every  exercise  intended  to 
develoj)  strength,  including  boxing.  Like  most  Ken- 
tuckians, he  was  fond  of  a i^istol  and  always  kept  two 
or  three  on  hand.  One  day  three  big  rough  fellows, 
who  had  taken  offense  at  me  about  a law-suit,  came  into 
the  oflice  and  picked  a fuss  with  me.  They  cursed  and 
abused  me  for  ten  minutes,  during  which  Clark  was  sit- 
ting at  his  desk,  pretending  to  read  a book  and  a]»- 
parently  taking  no  interest  in  the  rumpus.  I did  not 
know  whether  he  would  help  me  out  or  not,  conseipient- 
ly  I did  not  talk  back  to  the  fellows  very  much.  At 
last  they  concluded  to  give  me  a beating  and  advanced 
towards  me.  Quick  as  a flash,  Clark  pulled  open  the 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


209 


drawer  of  his  table,  exposing  two  glittering  pistols  to 
the  view  of  my  would-be  assailants  and  yelled;  ‘Hi-yi, 
yon  ruffians!  I do  the  fighting  for  this  firm  and  I ’ll 
give  yon  just  three  seconds  to  get  out  of  here,  or  I ’ll 
throw  3'ou  out  of  the  window  and  break  your  necks!’ 
Within  the  limit  he  allowed,  those  fellows  were  going 
down  stairs  three  steps  at  a jump.  Clark  shut  up  the 
drawer  with  a grim  smile  and  resumed  his  reading.  I 
thought  then  he  was  the  handsomest  man  I ever  saw. 
He  has  long  since  given  up  carrying  pistols,  but  I was 
glad  he  had  them  that  day.” 

After  Clark  and  Ball  dissolved  partnership,  until 
December,  1880,  Clark  practiced  law  alone  at  Louisiana. 
For  four  or  five  weeks  he  was  in  partnership  with  Judge 
Chappell  G.  White,  now  of  Eureka  Springs,  Arkansas. 
That  partnershix)  was  ended  by  White’s  removal  to  Van- 
dalia.  For  twenty-five  months  of  his  residence  in 
Louisiana,  Clark  was  ciW  attorney  of  that  place.  He 
resigned  the  attorneyship  because,  he  says,  it  was  weari- 
some prosecuting  j)eople  for  petty  offenses. 

In  1878,  as  stated,  David  A.  Ball  became  a candidate 
for  xn-osecuting  attorney.  Matt  G.  Reynolds  was  Mr. 
Ball’s  competitor  for  this  office — undoubtedly  the 
greatest  to  which  a county  can  elect  a man.  It  requires 
a goodlj'  amount  of  courage,  common  sense,  and  in- 
dusti\y,  coupled  with  a fair  knowledge  of  the  law,  and 
a general  knowledge  of  everything  else,  including 
human  nature,  to  make  an  ideal  prosecuting  attor- 


210 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MIE80VRIAF8. 


ney.  Ball  was  the  Democratic  nominee;  Reynolds 
was  the  nominee  of  tlie  Greenbackers,  with  the  Repub- 
lican endorsement  and  a,  larj>e  and  powerful  family 
connection  also  to  aid  him.  Both  weie  splendid  cam- 
]»aigners,  and  it  was  a most  spirited  race  from  begin- 
ning to  end. 

A few  days  before  the  election,  down  in  Calumet 
Township,  a most  fertile  region  and  where  there  are 
more  negroes  to  the  same  area  than  anywhere  in  north- 
ern iMissouri,  a colored  man  named  Jerry  Hill  killed 
another  negro.  The  murdered  man  was  of  powerful 
]diysi(jue,  strong  as  Sandow,  who  was  not  afraid  of 
anyone  and  who  had  thrashed  several  negroes  and  a 
few  whites,  lie  had  become  a local  terror  and  a num- 
ber of  ])eople  had  talked  it  around  that  anybody  who 
would  kill  him  would  be  hailed  as  a public  benefactor. 
Jerry  Hill  took  them  at  their  word  and  killed  him.  As 
there  are  about  a thousand  negro  votes  in  Bike  County 
— quite  an  item  in  a close  contest — both  Reynolds  and 
Ball  volunteered  to  defend  Jerry,  each  hoping  thereby 
to  bag  the  coloi-ed  vote  and  to  make  sure  his  own  call 
ing  and  election.  Ball  was  elected,  but  his  volunteer- 
ing to  defend  Hill,  of  course,  disqualitied  him  from  pros- 
ecuting in  that  jtarticular  case.  As  Ball  had  defeated 
the  prosecuting  attorney,  Edwaial  T.  vSmith,  for  the 
nominal  ion,  Mr.  Smith  refused  to  prosecute  Jerry  after 
his  term  expired.  So  Judge  Porter  ai)pointed  Champ 
Clark  to  prosecute  the  case. 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


211 


Xobodj  tliouglit  there  was  au^hhing  in  the  case. 
The  prisoner's  bail  had  been  fixed  at  three  hundred  dol- 
lars; but  Clark  had  nothing  to  do  and  he  studied  that 
case  as  he  never  has  studied  before  or  since.  He  did 
what  is  rarely  done  or  what  can  be  rarely  done  in  a law 
case — wrote  out  thirty  ininntes  of  exordium  and  thirty 
minutes  of  peroration — applicable  to  most  any  murder 
case,  and,  what  is  more,  committed  them  to  memory. 
He  set-ured  a first-class  jury  and  prosecuted  the  case  as 
though  his  own  life  were  at  stake  as  well  as  the  prison- 
er's. When  the  time  came  for  argument,  Clark  felt 
confident  of  a conviction  and  he  spoke  that  prepared 
speech,  together  with  a good  deal  that  he  had  not  pre- 
l)ared,  with  all  the  grace  and  power  of  delivery  he 
could  command.  The  court-house  was  crowded,  a situ- 
ation which  greatly  increased  his  zeal.  The  jury  was 
out  about  half  an  hour  and  brought  in  a verdict  of 
murder  in  the  first  degree — to  the  utter  amazement  of 
most  persons  in  the  county. 

Though  the  case  was  reversed  and  remanded  by  the 
Supreme  Court  because  the  jury  was  allowed  to  sepa- 
i-ate,  and  though  Clark  permitted  Jerry  to  plead  guilty 
to  murder  in  the  second  degree  and  take  a twenty-five 
years'  sentence  because  Judge  Porter  informed  him 
that  he  would  not  instruct  for  murder  in  the  first  de- 
gree, the  conduct  of  that  case  by  Champ  Clark  gave 
him  a standing  at  the  bar  and  was  the  beginning  of  a 
good  practice.  It  took  him  twenty  j'ears  to  convince 


212 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


some  people  tliat  he  ever  again  made  so  good  a speech 
in  a murder  case  as  he  did  on  that  occasion,  though  he 
has  certainly  made  a dozen  better. 

It  is  most  certainly  true  that  upon  seemingly  the 
most  trivial  incidents  depend  the  success  or  failure  of 
a career.  Without  doubt  the  accident  of  Ball’s  dis- 
ipialifying  himself  to  prosecute  after  election  by  volun- 
teering to  defend  Jerry  Hill  before  election  kept  Champ 
Clark  in  Pike  County,  for  he  could  not  much  longer 
have  endured  the  “starving  process,”  as  he  once  re- 
ferred to  those  days.  Had  he  left  Pike  County,  it  was 
his  intention  to  again  engage  himself  as  a teacher,  and 
Champ  Clark,  the  lawyer,  orator,  and  wit  of  future 
years,  would  perhaps  have  been  unknown. 

Already  he  had  a reputation  as  an  orator  and  his 
position  on  the  newspaper  made  him  a reimtation  as  a 
writer  of  exceptional  ability.  He  made  several  cam- 
paigns over  the  county;  was  an  eloquent  speaker  even 
at  this  time,  and  received  many  compliments  upon  his 
oratorical  ability. 

Clark  was  editor  of  the  Riverside  Press  at  Louisiana 
until  September  1, 1880. 

In  December,  1880,  he  removed  to  Bowling  Green, 
the  county  seat  of  Pike  County,  to  serve  as  assistant 
prosecuting  attorney  under  Ball,  who,  as  has  been 
stated,  was  elected  in  1878.  The  year  of  his  removal 
to  Bowling  Green  (1880),  Mr.  Clark  served  as  presiden- 
tial elector  on  the  Hancock  and  English  ticket. 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


213 


Shortly  after  his  removal  to  Bowling  Green,  he  was 
made  city  attorney  of  the  town,  and  later  resigned  the 
otiice  for  the  same  reasons  that  he  resigned  the  city 
attorneyship  of  Louisiana;  however,  nntil  January  1, 
1883,  he  remained  in  office  as  assistant  prosecutor  of 
the  county. 

Clark's  editorials  in  lighter  vein  published  in  local 
newspapers  were  characterized  by  the  adverseness  f»f 
I heir  writer  to  marriage  and  marriageable  young  ladies; 
in  fact,  many  of  the  uewspai:)er  men  in  near-by  towns 
styled  him  a misogynist,  or  at  least  one  having  little 
faith  in  and  love  for  the  female  constitution.  But 
whatever  his  adverse  views  on  matrimony,  there  came 
to  Louisiana,  after  Clark  quit  teaching,  a young  woman 
from  Callaway  County,  who  had  been  employed  as  a 
teacher  in  the  public  schools.  She  was  then  Miss  Gene- 
vieve Bennett,  but  soon  thereafter  (December  14,  1881) 
l)ecame  Mrs.  Champ  Clark,  and  Clark  no  longer  ]»os 
sessed  such  an  antipathy  for  marriage  as  was  charged  to 
him  shortly  before. 

In  1883,  David  A.  Ball  retired  from  the  prosecutor- 
ship  and  practiced  law  in  Louisiana.  Clark  at  this 
time  was  practicing  in  Bowling  Green.  Both  were 
still  fast  friends  and  assisted  each  other  greatly.  Ball, 
being  in  a fairly  good  practice  for  a country  lawyer, 
aided  Clark  materially  by  dividing  as  much  of  his 
practice  as  he  could  with  him. 


214 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MI8S0VFIANS. 


Olai-k’s  i‘ei)utatiou  as  an  oiutor  was  steadily  increas- 
ing, until  he  was  known  all  over  eastern  Missouri  as 
one  ot  the  ablest  speakers  in  that  section. 

In  188h,  he  entered  into  a law  partnership  with 
Jose]di  Tapley,  ot  Howling  (ireen,  the  partnership  con- 
1 inning  nnlil  1887. 

In  1881,  ]\lr.  Clark  was  a candidate  for  the  prosecnt- 
ing  attorneyship  of  Pike  Comity  and  the  same  yeai' 
David  A.  Ball  sought  the  office  of  State  senator.  Find- 
ing out  that  attempts  would  be  made  by  the  opposition 
to  defeat  both  candidates  at  the  primaries,  they  allied 
themselves  and  determined  to  win  or  lose  together. 
The  result  of  this  spirited  canvas  was  that  Clark's 
majority  in  the  primaries  was  1,250  and  Ball’s  1,500. 

Clark’s  record  as  prosecuting  attorney  of  Piki* 
County  was  a,  memorable  one  and  was  characterized  by 
the  vigor  with  which  he  upheld  the  law  and  prosecuted 
all  its  violators.  A story  illustrating  his  use  of  his 
forensic  and  oratorical  ability  while  prosecutor  is 
related. 

During  the  time  he  held  the  office  of  county  at- 
torney, a man  naimsl  Latimer  shot  and  killed  a man 
naim-d  Griffith.  Imtimer  was  a popular  citizen,  while 
the  mui'dered  imin  was  decidedly  unjHjpular.  Ihe  evi- 
dence against  Latimer  was  circumstantial  testimony 
and  scarcely  any  of  that,  but  when  the  time  came  ba 
the  cause  to  be  argued,  Clark  prepared  to  make  a tre- 
mendous effort  to  sway  not  only  public  opinion,  but  the 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


215 


jury  also,  by  a strong  speech  prosecutiug  Latimei-. 
The  court-house  was  filled  on  the  closing  day  of  the 
trial,  probably  five  or  six  hundred  people  being  there. 
Of  this  number  perhaps  not  more  than  two  or  three  in 
the  room  were  in  sympatln'  with  the  i»rosecution,  the 
remainder  wanting  Latimer  to  be  set  at  liberty.  Clark 
arose  to  close  for  the  State.  He  saw  jilainly  that  he 
was  contending  against  heavy  odds,  yet  began  to  make 
a vigorous  denunciation  of  Latimer  in  a crowd  com- 
posed of  the  accused  man’s  friends.  To  illustrate  the 
power  of  his  eloquence,  he  had  been  speaking  scarcely 
ail  half-hour  before  the  crowd  of  Latimer  partisans 
liroke  into  prolonged  applause  at  one  of  Clark’s  light- 
ning-like arguments  directed  against  the  head  of  Lat- 
imer. The  Court  became  angry  at  this  disiilay  of  lack 
of  court  etiquette  on  the  part  of  the  crowd  and  severe!}- 
rebuked  the  applause.  Clark  waited  for  the  excite- 
ment to  subside,  then,  after  talking  twenty  minutes,  he 
reaclied  the  climax  iii  his  arraignment,  at  which  the 
crowd  shouted  terrifically,  fairly  shaking  the  building 
with  its  thunderous  applause,  for  few  such  speeches 
had  ever  been  heard  in  the  court  room  of  Pike  County. 
1 )es])airingly  the  Court  gave  u[)  the  attempt  and  made 
no  effort  to  restrain  the  great  demonstration.  Despite 
this  masterful  speech-making  effort  of  Clark’s,  made  in 
the  face  of  lack  of  evidence,  the  jury  cleared  Latimer, 
as  it  wavs  practically  forced  to  do,  because  of  the  insuf- 
ticient  proof. 


216 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Clark  continued  in  the  office  of  prosecuting  attorney 
until  January  1,  1889.  In  tlie  meanwliile  (1888)  the 
people  of  Pike  County  elected  him  as  their  representa- 
tive in  the  Missouri  Legislature. 


CHAPTER  III. 


A GKAXD  JURY’S  DOMINATION.— SERVICE  IN 
THE  LEGISEATURE.— THE  UNIVERSITY 
FIGHT.— CLARK-NORTON  EEUD.— 
ELECTION  TO  CONGRESS.— 
TAMMANY  HALL 
SPEECH. 

Champ  Clark  can  claim  a distinction  to  which,  in  all 
I)roha])ility,  no  other  man,  living  or  dead,  can  lay  claim. 
He  was  nominated  for  an  oflice  by  a grand  jury,  in  the 
spring  of  1888,  toward  the  close  of  his  term  as  prosecut- 
ing attorney.  Not  only  was  he  nominated  in  such  an 
unusual  way,  but  from  that  session  of  the  Pike  Counts" 
Grand  J ury  went  out  the  propaganda  which  resulted  in 
Mr.  Clark's  election  to  the  Missouri  Legislature  and  the 
opening  of  a brilliant  legislative  career,  which  has  since 
become  famous. 

The  Circuit  Court  of  Pike  County  began  the  first 
Monday  in  March,  1888.  Judge  John  McCune,  for 
twenty  years  a county  judge  of  Pike  County,  was  fore- 
man of  the  grand  jury.  As  the  jury  completed  its 
work,  the  foreman  spoke  to  l\Ir.  Clark,  saying,  “Clark, 
how  would  you  like  to  go  to  the  Legislature?”  The 
prosecutor  said  he  thought  his  prospects  for  a good 


218 


FIVE  FAM0V8  MISSOURIANS. 


and  liicTalive  law  i)racitice  were  too  Hattering  for 
liiui  to  enter  jtolitics  again.  '“lint  it  is  a revising 
session,"  diidge  iMcCnne  argued,  “and  von  must  go. 
The  people  ^\ant  yon  to  go,  and  if  yon  refuse  to  serve 
them  now,  they  may  refuse  yon  something  on  which 
yon  setyoni  heart  in  the  future."  AN'herenpon  he  turned 
to  the  grand  jury  and  said:  “All  who  are  in  favor  of 

l\!i‘.  Clark  going  to  the  Legislature  say  ‘Aye’;  those  o]>- 
posed,  ‘A’o.’ ■’  The  vote  was  unanimous,  although  an 
intensely  bitter  Kepublican  was  on  the  grand  jury.  So 
Mr.  Clark  was  nominated  by  a grand  jury  for  the  Legis- 
lature, an  office  he  did  not  want. 

The  nominee  regarded  the  performance  as  a joke, 
but  Foreman  i\lc(tune  and  the  jurors  did  not.  They 
staid  ed  a movement  among  the  people  which  soon  be- 
came irresistible  }»ressure.  The  propagators  of  Clark's 
boom  jiersuaded  three  out  of  four  avowed  candidates  to 
withdraw,  and  announced  Clark’s  candidacy  in  the 
county  papers,  ])aying  the  fees  themselves.  At  the  en- 
suing county  jiriinary  election,  the  grand  jury’s  irreg- 
ulai-  nominal  ion  was  ratified,  while  Clark  himself,  with 
(diaracteristic  inditference,  was  at  home  working  in  his 
garden  during  the  greater  part  of  the  day. 

INIr.  Clark  had  not  asked  a man  to  vote  for  him,  nor 
had  he  intimated  that  he  wanted  to  go  to  the  Legisla- 
ture, simply  assuring  his  supporters  that  he  would 
serve  if  nominated  and  elected. 


CEAMP  GLARE. 


219 


Of  his  nomiuation  aud  electiou,  Mr.  Clark  once  said 
reminiscently:  “I  prize  it  greatly,  as  it  was  a yoluntary 
gift  from  those  Ayho  knew  me  best.  Sometimes  I think 
that  political  position  is  worth  haying  only  when  it 
comes  as  did  mj  election  to  the  Legislature  in  1888.” 
^Ir.  Clark  has  of  late  years  said  that  he  was  tiring 
of  strife  in  political  ri^■alry;  that  he  used  to  think, 
“when  in  the  days  of  his  callow  youth, ” that  he  did  not 
want  a nomination  or  election  to  any  office  unless  it 
came  after  a long,  hard  siege  aud  with  great  opposition, 
hut  after  experience  had  taught  him  the  cost  of  strife  in 
elections,  he  wanted,  or  at  least  preferred  to  receiye  nom- 
inations without  opposition,  as  came  this  nomination  in 
1888.  HoweA'er,  seyeral  years  elapsed  before  he  con- 
yerted  himself  entirely  to  this  way  of  thinking,  eyen 
after  his  nomination  for  the  Legislature.  His  battles 
were  many  and  his  Auctories  mingled  with  defeats,  and 
all  with  terrible  strain  and  at  the  sacrifice  of  great 
energy  and  effort,  before  he  grew  to  the  opinion  of 
Thomas  B.  Reed,  whose  words  in  his  A aledictoiw  to  the 
people  of  the  First  Maine  District  haye  often  been 
((noted  by  iNfr.  Clark  since  the  big  Yankee  Republican 
deliyered  them : “Office  as  a ribbon  to  stick  in  your  coat 
is  worth  nobody’s  consideration.  Office  as  an  oppor- 
tunity is  worth  all  consideration.”  Offices  haye  come 
to  Champ  Clark  a number  of  times  as  badges  of  great 
political  A'ictories,  but  the  grand  jury’s  nomination 
came. to  him  as  an  opportunity.  How  well  the  oppor- 


220 


FITE  F AMOVE  MISSOURIANS. 


tunity  was  used  is  evidenced  by  the  steady  growth  of 
his  reputation  and  fame  down  to  the  present  time. 

During  the  summer  of  1888,  Mr.  Clark  stepped  into 
undisputed  fame  as  an  orator  from  the  hour  in  which  he 
aroused  the  Democratic  State  Convention  with  one  of 
his  characteristic  spurts  of  brilliancy  in  nominating 
David  A.  Ball  for  lieutenant-governor.  As  Lord  Byron 
said,  “I  woke  one  morning  and  found  myself  famous,’’ 
with  truth  could  Clark  say  that  he  went  to  the  State 
Convention  without  the  least  idea  of  attracting  any 
extraordinary  attention,  and  a day  or  two  later  stepped 
into  fame  of  State  proportions  as  an  orator  of  power 
and  wonderful  influence  over  a bod.y  of  men. 

On  August  22d  the  State  Convention  met  and  nomi- 
nated David  R.  Francis  for  governor,  after  having  wit- 
nessed no  remarkable  displays  of  oratorical  ability  by 
any  of  the  many  speakers.  TJie  time  came  for  the  nom- 
ination of  a candidate  for  lieutenant-governor,  and 
(dark,  known  only  to  a few  of  the  delegates,  with  an  ac- 
(piaintance  spreading  over  only  two  or  three  counties  in 
the  State,  delivered  a set,  carefully-prepared  speech, 
nominating  his  life-long  friend.  Senator  Ball,  then  serv- 
ing as  lieutenant-govenior  and  a candidate  for  election 
to  that  office.  His  first  words  seized  the  convention’s  at- 
tention, and  before  he  uttered  many  more  sentences  the 
entire  assembly  was  in  a furore  of  enthusiastic  excite- 
ment. The  speech  was  replete  with  sarcasm,’  wit,  and 
eloquence.  He  captured  the  ear  of  the  convention  and 


GEAMP  GLARE. 


221 


was  carried  into  prominence  as  the  ablest  convention 
orator  of  the  year.  The  daily  papers  of  the  State  ex- 
ploited his  speech  as  the  oratorical  feature  of  the  Con- 
vention. He  assnmed  a position  as  an  orator  shared 
by  few  in  the  eyes  of  the  Convention. 

Later  on  in  the  session  of  the  Convention  he  ap- 
peared to  speak  extempore  in  nominating  General 
Jamison  for  register  of  lands,  and  was'  received  with 
nproarions  applause,  and  climbed  another  notch  higher 
as  an  orator. 

During  the  campaign  of  1888,  Clark  was  much  in  de 
mand.  He  went  with  the  nominee  for  governor,  David 
K.  Francis,  all  over  the  Sthte,  and  everywhere  cap 
lined  the  attention  of  the  crowds  and  won  the  admira- 
tion of  the  whole  State.  No  campaign  orator  was  more 
eagerly  sought. 

At  the  November  election  the  entire  Democratic 
ticket  was  elected  in  Missouri  and  Pike  County,  and 
Clark  was  sent  to  the  Legislature  from  Pike  County, 
after  having  spent  ten  years  in  the  pursuit  of  his  pro- 
fession since  his  defeat  in  1878. 

As  the  opening  of  the  Thirty-fifth  General  Assembly 
of  Missouri  approached,  he  loomed  into  greater  promi- 
nence than  ever  before.  He  was  proposed  and  urged 
as  a prospective  candidate  for  speaker  of  the  House; 
then,  a few  daj’s  before  the  session  began,  he  was  re- 
garded as  practically  certain  to  be  chosen  speaker  pro 
tern.,  but,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  he  declined  to  become 


222 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MIESOVIUAFE. 


a oanrliclate  either  for  speaker  or  speaker  pro  tern.,  al- 
tliongli  his  candidacy  for  either  place  would  have 
broken  all  slates  and  in  all  probability  have  resulted  in 
his  preferment. 

Mr.  Clark  announced  that  he  preferred  to  be  a hard- 
working member  than  either  speaker  or  speaker  pro 
tern.,  and  his  name  was  instantly  connected  with  the  im- 
portant committees  as  a prospective  chairman. 

At  the  Democratic  caucus  to  nominate  candidates 
for  offices  of  the  House,  Mr.  (dark  won  the  laurels  of 
an  oi'ator  by  a short,  witty,  and  uni(iue  nominating 
speech  wliicli  captivated  the  House,  just  as  his  Ball 
and  Jamison  speeches  had  won  for  him  the  admiring 
attention  of  the  Ktate  Democi-atic  Convention.  Mr. 
( lark  was  asked  to  place  in  nomination  for  chaplain 
Keverend  Peter  Trone,  of  Henry  County,  and  in  doing 
so  brought  down  the  House  and  unquestionably  se- 
cured the  election  of  the  venerable  minister. 

This  speech  was  one  of  Clark’s  happiest  efforts.  It 
wgs  widely  quoted  among  the  papers  and  people  of  Mis- 
souri and  attained  fame  for  the  s])eech  and  speaker, 
which  the  latter  had  undoubtedly  not  expected.  It 
was  delivered  in  Clark’s  usual  inanner  and  worded 
in  much  the  same  style  that  won  national  fame  for 
the  Tammany  Hall  speech.  Clark’s  description  and 
personal  references  to  his  respected  candidate  for 
chaplain  were  esi»eciaily  unique  and  quoted  in  all  parts 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


223 


of  the  State.  Keferriug  to  Reverend  Trone,  Mr.  Clark 
said: 

“Born  on  the  soil  of  Virginia,  his  parents  brought 
him,  as  a babe  in  arms,  to  Missouri,  when  it  was  still 
the  habitat  of  the  red  Indian  and  the  wild  beast,  and  he 
has  done  liis  full  part  in  laying  the  broad  foundations 
of  this  mighty  State.  He  was  a pioneer  farmer  and  a 
frontier  blacksmith.  A leonine  soldier  of  Joe  Shelby, 
the  bosom  friend  of  Major  Edwards,  honored  and  be- 
loved by  all  who  ever  looked  into  his  honest  e.yes.  At 
the  close  of  the  war,  he  returned  to  his  little  farm,  poor 
as  Lazarus,  to  hud  his  home  in  ashes  and  his^  wife  and 
children  huddled  in  a negro  cabin.  He  didn’t  'vvliine. 
He  doesn't  belong  to  that  school  of  soldiers.  He  spent 
no  time  in  crying  over  spilt  milk;  he  had  too  much 
sense  for  that.  Bravely  and  resolutely,  he  took  up  the 
burdens  of  life — without  vain  regrets  on  account  of  the 
inevitable.  Early  and  late  upon  his  anvil  he  celebrated 
the  jubilee  of  peace.  Industriously  he  tickled  with  the 
hoe  the  rich  face  of  a Henry  County  farm  and  it  smiled 
with  abundant  harvest.  Joyfully  and  liberally  obey- 
ing the  scriptui-al  injunction  to  ‘multiply  and  replenish 
the  earth,'  he  has  the  honor  to  be  the  proud  and  happy 
father  of  eleven  Missouri  Democrats. 

“In  naming  him,  placid  and  majestic  Northeast 
Missouri  sends  hearty  greeting  to  the  glowing  and 
gorgeous  Southwest;  the  old  and  historic  county  of 
Pike  clasps  hands  with  the  young  and  ambitious 

—15— 


224 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


comity  of  Henry;  the  kid  Democrats  bow  their  pro- 
foiindest  acknowh‘dgments  to  the  veterans  of  the  Old 
Onard;  the  running-water  Campbellite  backs  tlie 
shouting  Methodist.  I jiresent  for  your  suffrages  the 
name  of  Keverend  Peter  H.  Trone.” 

Of  course  Trone  was  nominated  and  elected.  After 
the  roars  of  applause  and  laughter  that  had  greeted 
Clark’s  speech,  nothing^  could  have  beaten  him. 

Immediately  after  the  organization  of  the  House, 
8)»eaker  J.  J.  Kussell,  of  Mississipjii  County,  appointed 
INIr.  Clark  chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Criminal 
Jurisjn  udence,  for  which  position  Mr.  Clark  was  espi'- 
cially  fitted,  having  just  completed  four  years’  tenure 
in  the  office  of  prosecuting  attorney. 

The  great  event  of  this  session  was  the  re-organiza- 
tion of  the  Missouri  State  Dniversity,  which  placed  the 
leading  educational  institution  of  Missouri  among  the 
foremost  in  the  land.  In  this  great  fight  for  the  Uni- 
versity’s reorganization,  Mr.  (i’lark,  with  his  powers  of 
logic,  his  withering  sarcasm,  his  relentless  and  deter- 
mined sjiirit,  his  searching  inquiries,  his  keen  and  prac- 
tical judgment  in  things  i»ertaining  to  educational 
work,  and  withal  his  blunt  and  candid  manner,  was  ad- 
mitted to  be  the  leader  in  the  fight,  which  resulted  in 
the  resignation  of  Dr.  Laws  and  the  retirement  of  Pro- 
fessoi'  Sanborn,  dean  of  the  Agricultural  College.  Mr. 
Clark’s  crusade  for  the  reorganization  of  the  Missouri 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


225 


T'liiversity  made  him  feared  as  was  none  other,  when 
opposition  to  his  plans  was  contemplated. 

The  contest  opened  with  a resolntion  for  the  investi- 
"■ation  of  the  State  Agricultural  School,  olfered  by 
Itepresentative  W'ebb,  of  Jackson  County,  on  January 
22d.  Mr.  Clark  at  once  took  a prominent  part  in  the 
matter,  and  offered  a substitute  for  the  resolution  of 
Mr.  M'ebb,  the  substitute  providing  for  an  investiga- 
tion of  the  State  University  simultaneously  with  the 
Agricultural  School.  On  the  following  day  the  House 
and  Senate  adopted  resolutions  similar  to  the  substi- 
tute offered  by  Mr.  Clark,  and  the  member  from  Pike 
County  was  made  chairman  of  the  committee  which 
made  the  investigation,  resulting  in  the  renovation  of 
both  institutions.  The  investigation  proved  many  of 
the  charges  preferred  against  Dr.  Laws  and  Prof.  San- 
born to  be  well  founded,  and  the  result  was  the  resig- 
nation of  both. 

The  University  light  was  one  of  the  most  bitter  ever 
known  in  the  history  of  the  Missouri  Legislature.  It 
culminated  beneficently,  clearing  the  great  State  ed- 
ucational institution  of  all  obstacles  in  the  way  of 
its  progress  and  jilacing  it  in  positions  and  under 
management  that  have  made,  the  school  as  successful 
as  any  State  university  in  the  United  States.  His 
friends  assert,  and  his  enemies  admit,  that  this  largely 
was  the  work  of  Champ  Clark,  whose  warfare  upon 
the  management  of  the  State  University  has  become 


226 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


memorable  and  was  pointed  to  a successful  end.  His 
interest  in  educational  matters  led  to  the  position  he 
took,  and  the  fact  that  the  Missouri  University  ranks 
to  day  among  tlie  best  in  the  United  States  proves  that 
Champ  Clark’s  service  in  the  Missouri  Legislature  was 
(iniely,  Ids  vigorous  work  perhaps  saving  the  much- 
cherislu  d iiistilution  from  ruin. 

An  associate  of  J\Ir.  Clark  in  the  Legislature  refers 
to  him  as  the  ablest  debater  then  in  the  Missouri  Legis- 
lature and  the  hardest  worker  in  committees. 

Clark  it  was  w'ho  introduced  and  forced  to  a passage 
the  bill  assessing  express  companies  2 per  cent  of  their 
gross  earnings,  whose  constitutionality  was  tested  and 
sustained  in  the  courts.  From  this  Clark  bill  alone, 
thousands  of  dollars  in  revenue  are  annually  paid  to 
the  State  of  Missouri. 

Many  of  the  measures  which  Mr.  Clark  fathered  in 
the  Thirty-fifth  Assembly  were  defeated  then,  but 
passed  in  subsequent  sessions,  and  have  been  exceed- 
ingly successful  in  operation.  Particularly  among 
these  bills  were  the  acts  levying  taxes,  similar  to  the 
express  company  tax,  upon  insurance,  telegraph,  and 
transportation  companies. 

He  advocated  election  bills  in  that  session,  which, 
had  they  then  become  laws,  would  have  tended  largely 
to  the  reform  and  adi  ancement  of  elections  in  Missouri. 
Among  these  measures  were  acts  regulating  primary 
elections.  In  this  session  Mr.  Clark  championed  and 


CEAMP  CLARE. 


227 


had  adopted  the  Australian  ballot  system  for  cities  of 
5,000  population  and  more,  since  made  of  general 
application  in  the  State. 

April  30,  1889,  before  the  two  Houses  of  the  Legis- 
lature, Mr.  Clark  delivered  an  oration,  which  many 
deem  the  greatest  and  ablest  speech  he  ever  delivered. 
It  was  on  the  occasion  of  the  hundredth  anniversary 
of  the  inaugnration  of  President  Washington.  The 
oration  was  a i>atriotic  tribute  to  Washington  and  his 
compeers.  The  effort,  if  full  justice  be  ever  done  to 
the  orations  of  Champ  Clark,  deserves  commemora- 
tion as  one  of  the  greatest  ever  delivered  on  Missouri 
soil. 

It  was  in  Champ  Clark’s  style,  was  classical,  histor- 
ical, full  of  independent  thought,  a careful,  studious, 
scholarly  review  of  the  character  of  Washington. 

“What  the  fruit  is  to  the  blossom,  what  achieve- 
ment is  to  promise,  what  fruition  is  to  hope,  what  mar- 
riage is  to  courtship,  the  crowning  glory  of  the  thirti- 
eth of  April  was  to  the  immortal  declaration  of  July 
fourth,”  was  the  opening  sentence  of  the  oration,  and 
from  the  utterance  of  these  words  Mr.  Clark's  masterv 
of  his  snbject  was  complete.  It  was  not  an  oration 
after  the  manner  of  the  average  one  delivered  on  that 
day,  but  uncommonly  bright  and  interesting.  Had  it 
been  delivered  in  Massachusetts  by  a iXew  England 
orator,  it  would  have  been  quoted  around  the  world  as 
one  of  the  greatest  orations  in  the  English  language, 


228 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


but  as  it  was  delivered  only  by  a member  of  the  Mis- 
souri Legislature,  and  he  one  out  of  line  with  the  book- 
makers of  the  effete  home  of  “greatness,”  it  will  re- 
main eutoiubed  in  tiles  of  the  newspapers  that  contained 
it  at  the  ti)ue,  until  a complete  collection  of  Champ 
Clark’s  orations  is  published;  then  the  masterly  effort 
of  April  3(1,  1889,  will  deserve  a front  place  among  the 
addresses  of  his  time. 

Out  of  the  one  hundred  and  forty-four  members  of 
lhat  Legislature,  only  two  ever  went  to  Congress, 
all  hough  the  session  brought  to  the  front  some  of  the 
brainiest  men  the  State  afforded.  The  two  were 
Mr.  Clark  and  II.  AL  Bodine,  the  latter  lepresenting 
Monroe  County.  In  the  case  of  the  former,  his  elec- 
tion to  Congress  was  inevitable  from  the  day  of  the  ad- 
journment of  the  Legislature  in  which  he  served.  He 
was  admitted  to  be  one  of  the  ablest  legislators  in  the 
State,  having  won  renown  in  a body  famous  for  the 
high  quality  of  its  members.  Nothing  could  prevent 
Clai'k  from  sooner  or  later  going  to  Congress  and  tak- 
ing a front  i ank  among  the  members  of  the  American 
House  of  Representatives. 

If  anyone  is  interested  in  Clark’s  persistent  advo 
cacy  of  primary  elections,  it  might  be  well  enough  for 
them  to  know  that  Clark  witnessed  in  his  congressional 
district  some  of  the  most  sensational  conventions  i»er- 
ha])S  known  in  the  West.  His  personal  experience 
with  conventions  no  doubt  stimulated  to  a large  de- 


CHAMP  CLAPE. 


229 


gree  his  constant  distrust  in  the  time-honored  method 
of  political  nomination. 

In  1884  and  1S8(>,  his  district  won  the  sobri(iuet  of 
‘‘Bloody”  by  holding  two  conventions  each  year,  taking 
thousands  of  ballots. 

First,  in  1888,  Clark  with  other  prominent  men  of 
Pike  County  saw  a prime  favorite,  Elijah  Bobinson, 
defeated  in  a convention  by  “a  penny  tossed.’’  Then 
four  years  later,  after  Clark's  defeat  in  1890,  he  was 
one  of  two  conspicuous  figures  in  a convention  which 
has  gone  down  in  the  political  annals  as  by  far  the 
most  exciting  and  turi)iilent  convention  of  all  Missouri 
1 >emocratic  conventions.  He  witnessed  in  each  com- 
ing year  reneAved  bitterness  of  spirit  and  tenseness  of 
disagreement  between  two  factions.  Each  caininiign 
added  fuel  to  haTues  already  raging  furiously.  Each 
year  saw  personal  differences  assume  more  threatening 
proportions,  until  the  people  began  to  speak  in  primary 
elections  and  cleared  away  complications  and  settled 
all  strife.  The  sum  of  all  political  peace  in  Clark's  dis- 
trict is  due  alone  to  primary  elections.  Therefore, 
there  can  be  little  Avonder  that  he  has  supported  that 
method  so  ably  and  constantly. 

In  1888,  Eichard  II.  Norton,  of  Troy,  and  Elijah 
Eobinson,  of  Louisiana,  Avere  the  leading  candidates 
for  Congress  in  the  Pike  (''ouuty  district.  Eobinson 
Avas  Avithin  a feAv  A'otes  of  a nomination,  but  a long 
siege  of  balloting  presaged  no  settlement  of  the  con- 


230 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


test.  Judge  Kobinson  was  becoming  w'earied  with  the 
strain  of  the  deadlock,  and  when  a Norton  manager 
came  to  him  with  a strange  proposition  to  settle,  he 
grasped  it  as  a final  means  of  arbitrament.  The  Nor- 
ton men  proposed  that  a coin  should  be  tossed,  and 
therebjf  decide  which  of  the  two,  Robinson  or  Norton, 
should  wilhdraw.  The  coin  was  flipi)ed  in  an  upper 
i-oom  in  AVarrenton,  where  the  convention  wms  being 
held.  Norton  won,  and  the  Robinson  forces  retired  from 
Ihe  field.  Richard  H.  Norton’s  chances  of  election  to 
(jongi'ess  therefore  were  poised  upon  the  finger  that 
tossed  that  famous  coin,  and  he  won. 

Two  years  later  Norton  was  called  upon  to  measure 
swoimIs  with  Champ  Clark,  another  Pike  County 
favonte.  Q'hen  was  opened  an  historic  struggle.  Nor- 
ton and  Clark  were  politically  lined  up  against  each 
other  from  that  time  for  several  years.  A contest  was 
l)egun  which  strained  the  nerves  of  the  district  and 
sorely  divided  Democratic  households. 

It  became  a feud  about  which  columns  have  been 
written  in  almost  every  Missouri  newspaper.  On  this 
contest  all  political  Missouri  focused  eyes.  At  last  it 
was  not  settled  until  the  State  Committee  directed  a 
primary  election. 

Everybody  else  stayed  out  of  the  race  in  1890. 
Clai-k  and  Norton  fought  alone.  They  contended  for 
advantage  in  every  county  of  the  district.  Norton  was 
immensely  popular  in  his  own  county  and  had  staunch 


CUAMF  CLARK. 


231 


support  from  Iris  friends.  Clark  had  a State  reputation 
without  a blemish  and  Mms  likewise  admired  and  en- 
thusiastically supported  bj'  his  many  friends  in  tlie 
district. 

Finally  it  develoi)ed  that  Audrain  County  was  the 
I»ivotal  county.  Upon  its  vote  depended  the  whole  re- 
sult. Ill  this  county  Clark  was  at  a decided  disadvan- 
iage.  Both  of  the  Mexico  iiapers  were  against  him. 
lie  had  no  Ueiuocratic  newspaper  supporter  in  the 
county,  actively  and  aggressively  at  work.  Sam  II. 
<’nok  and  Robert  M.tVhite,of  Mexico,  whose  newspaper 
dUTerences  have  become  paid  and  parcel  of  Democratic 
(laditious  in  Missouri,  were  united  on  Congressman 
Aorlou.  A primary  was  held,  and  Norton  defeated 
Claik  by  a narrow  margin  of  ST  votes  out  of  a vote 
polled  of  4,100.  A cliange  of  44  votes  in  Audrain 
County  would  have  sent  Champ  Clark  to  Congress  two 
years  sooner;  but  he  bided  his  time,  and  prepared  for 
the  struggle  of  4892. 

In  the  interval  Clark  engaged  in  the  ]>ractice  of  law 
in  Howling  Green,  adding  to  his  reputation  by  occa- 
sional speeches.  He  was  made  chairman  of  the  IMis- 
souri  delegation  of  the  Trans-Mississippi  Commercial 
Congress,  which  met  at  Denver,  Colorado,  May  19, 1891. 
These  congresses  have  had  more  to  do  with  the  develop- 
ment of  Western  sentiment  on  public  questions  than 
any  other  one  inlluence.  AVilliam  J.  Bryan’s  first 
national  prominence  was  attained  liy  his  speeches  and 


232 


FIVJS  FAMOUS  MISSOVB.TA'N'S. 


(“ommittee  work  in  these  sessions  of  a con<>'ress  of 
Western  business  men.  This  body  nnnibered  amonj; 
its  members  and  delegates  the  ablest  and  most  famous 
of  ^^'estern  men,  and  its  sessions  were  the  connoil- 
(diambers  of  the  brains  of  the  West. 

Champ  Clark  assumed  the  greatest  prominence  of 
any  new  member  in  the  session  of  1891.  He  figured 
with  the  strongest  men  of  the  country,  and  laid  tin* 
foundations  for  a national  fame. 

The  camjtaign  of  1892  came  on,  and  with  it  the 
climax  of  the  Clark-Norton  fend.  Again  they  meas- 
ured swords  in  Audrain  County,  and  Clark  carried  the 
cftiinty  by  a majoi'ity  of  St>8.  Lieutenant-Governor  Kail, 
Clark’s  closest  personal  friend,  went  to  Mexico  and 
fought  the  contest  assiduously  to  the  end.  The  contest 
shifted  to  Montgomery  County,  where  the  battle  was 
fought  vigorously.  Then  to  Crawford  County  the  con- 
testants turned.  A mass  convention  was  to  be  held 
at  Cuba,  and  Mr.  Ball  prepared  to  make  arrange- 
ments to  bring  Clark  men  fr(tm  all  ]>arts  of  Crawford 
('ounty  to  Cuba.  He  went  lo  St.  Louis  and  chartered  a 
special  train  for  Clark’s  use.  Norton  heard  of  the  j)lans 
of  Ball  while  down  in  the  southern  part  of  Crawford 
County,  so  he  boarded  a hand-car  at  a little  way-station, 
went  to  Cuba,  caught  a freight  train,  and  brought  back 
from  St.  Louis  two  special  trains  for  the  Norton  men. 
So  was  evidenced  the  des](eration  on  both  sides  in  the 
contest. 


CUAMP  CLARK. 


233 


Clavk  secured  Hie  Crawford  delef^ation,  but  Xorton 
got  up  a contesting  delegation.  Tlie  District  Commit- 
tee, fav  orable  to  Xorton,  undertook  to  settle  the  con- 
tests. This  aroused  the  party  of  Clark,  and  vigorous 
protests  were  made  b}'  them.  AVhen  the  conven- 
tion met  at  Montgomeiw  City,  tlie  forces  discovered 
themselves  to  be  tied  on  the  ballots,  unless  the 
contests  should  be  settled.  For  several  days  the  con- 
vention met  in  turmoil,  then  adjourned  after  all  at- 
tempts to  compromise  failing.  The  body  of  Ninth 
District  Democrats,  ‘‘tossed  on  the  waves  of  excite- 
ment,'-’ met  again  a short  time  later,  after  the  State  con- 
vention had  met  and  nominated  a ticket.  Finally  the 
Clark  and  Norton  delegates  resolved  themselves  into 
two  conventions  and  nominated  both  of  the  favorites. 
The  vState  Committee  here  interfered  and  ordered  a 
primary  election,  which  resulted  in  Champ  Clark’s 
nomination.  In  November,  iS!)2,  he  was  triumiihantly 
elected. 

The  excitement  of  the  summer  of  1893  is  too  familinr 
to  warrant  recounting  it.  Clark  took  sides  naturallv 
with  Bland  and  Bland’s  views,  espou.sing  the  doctrine 
of  free  silver  ardently. 

During  the  summer,  he  was  invited  by  the  Tam- 
many Society  to  speak  in  famous  Tammany  Hall  on 
July  Fourth.  Here  by  his  wit,  his  blunt  statement  of 
facts  which  the  Tammany  braves  had  never  heard, 
his  quaint  sentences,  his  amusing  figures,  his  side-split- 


231 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MISEOURIAFfS. 


ting  stories,  his  prophetic  analysis  of  national  politics, 
Champ  Clark  set  New  Yoi-k  ahre.  Tlie  metropolis  was 
accnstomed  to  hearing  platitudes  and  spread-eagle 
s])eeches  on  July  Fourth.  It  had  never  dreamed  that 
the  big,  deep-voiced  Missourian  in  their  midst  had  such 
a surprise  in  store. 

Champ  Clark  knocked  the  provincialism  and  con- 
ceit of  New  York  Democracy  into  nothingness,  at  the 
same  time  giving  New  York  a fair  sample  of  the  brains 
and  determination  of  the  ’Western  Democracy. 

As  an  evidence  of  the  fame  his  Tammany  Llall 
speech  gave  him,  the  leading  paragraphs  from  the  New 
\'ork  World's  account  of  the  Ikimmany  celebration  may 
be  given.  The  M’urlcl  headed  the  story  in  big,  black 
hdters,  “Hark  to  Champ  Clark.” 

“Tammany  Hall  celebrated  Independence  Day  with 
becoming  zeal  and  patriotism.  A genuine  Missouri 
Ibker  was  with  them  to  assist  in  doing  honor  to  the 
glorious  occasion,  to  himself,  his  fellow-Pikers,  the 
State  of  Missouri,  and  the  boundless  and  nntrammelled 
West.  It  vA'as  a great  day  for  Tammany  and  a truly 
]neniorable  one  for  Pikers. 

“Congressman  Champ  Clark  was  the  Piker.  He 
made  an  undeniable  hit.  He  was  down  on  the  Fourth 
of  July  ])rogram  for  a short  talk,  but  he  made  a long 
one.  Pikers  never  make  short  talks. 

“Clark  is  a new  congressma,n.  He  comes  from  the 
town  of  Dowling  Green,  in  Pik(*  County,  the  best  known 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


235 


comity  of  his  State.  The  Tammany  celebrants  hailed 
the  congressional  representativ  e of  the  Pikers  with  en- 
thusiasm and  listened  to  him  with  astonishment  and 
awe. 

“He  told  the  braves  that  Missouri  was  the  hoiie  of 
Democracy  and  of  the  country,  and  that  in  half  a cen- 
tury it  would  be  the  center  of  civilization,  of  wealth, 
and  of  population.  One  astounded  Tammany  man  man- 
aged to  gasp:  ‘What ’s  the  matter  with  New  York?’ 

“ ‘Oh,  I ’ll  say  something  about  New  York  in  a 
minute,’  said  the  Piker  nonchalantly. 

“The  congressman  is  gray-haired,  but  young  and 
active-looking.  He  is  rather  over  middle  height,  sturd- 
ily built,  and  was  well  dressed  in  a gray  suit.  The  coat 
was  of  the  shad-belly  cut.  Champ  Clark’s  face  is  clean 
shaven.  He  used  to  have  a moustache,  but  sacrificed 
it  before  coming  to  New  Yoi'k.  The  removal  of  his 
moustache  has  brought  to  view  a firm  ipiper  lip  and  a 
generous  mouth.” 

After  devoting  columns  to  Clark’s  speech  and  some 
inimitable  stories,  with  profuse  illustrations,  the  World 
said: 

‘‘The  brazen  ^dkings  that  stand  at  either  end  of 
the  Tammany  Hall  stage  wolvbled  on  their  pedestals  as 
Champ  Clark  went  to  his  seat.  These  Vikings  had 
heard  a good  many  speeches,  but  they  were  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  audacious  oratory  of  a Piker.  WTieu  the 
aiidieuce  recovered  its  ecpianimity,  it  applauded  Con- 


236 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


f^i'essiuau  Clark.  The  otlier  features  of  the  eelebra- 
tiou  were  tame  compared  witli  the  outburst  of  Mis- 
souri’s fiery  sou.” 

“For  mauy  other  reasons  than  Conj^i'essmau  Chamjr 
Clark’s  first  appeai-ance  in  New  York  and  the  receii)t 
of  many  letters  of  p\iblic  inter(‘st,’’  the  World  said, 
“Tammanr-’s  one  hundred-and-seventeenth  celebration 
was  remarkable.” 

The  New  York  World,  with  the  audience  that  heard 
Clark’s  speech,  lived  to  see  the  day  when  the  empire  of 
American  Democracy  moved  its  capital  to  Missouri,  as 
Clark  had  told  thcnn  il  would  do.  Those  who  were 
astonished  at  Clark’s  (juaint  speech  saw  realized  the 
declarations  he  made;  therefore,  the  acapiaintance  New 
York  has  since  cultivated  with  Champ  Clark  is  to  be 
(“asily  accounted  for. 

jMr.  (,’lark  was  not  in  New  York  to  cater  to  New 
York  tastes,  nor  there  to  ]tay  homage  to  the  powers  of 
the  nieti'oi)olis,  but  to  speak  his  thoughts  and  opinions 
in  a style  which  amazed  men  accustomed  only  to  mild- 
ness and  e(iuivocation.  Yet  New  York,  who  thought 
luu-self  amused  because  Clark  tore  away  the  veil  that 
shaded  the  powers  of  the  tVest  fi-oni  New  York  e.yes, 
has  since  grasped  the  meaning  of  his  woi'ds,  and  has 
looked  where  lie  bade  hei'  look.  New  York’s  rep- 
representatives  in  Congress  have  lived  to  respect  and 
admire  the  congressman  whom  they  once  regarded  as 
only  uui<iue.  Champ  Clark  the  wit,  at  Tammany  Hall, 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


237 


has  since  been  supplanted  Champ  Clark  the  student, 
the  man  of  national  affairs,  the  scholar,  the  man  of 
letters.  New  York’s  first  judgment  of  a coming  man 
was  faulty,  but  not  for  the  first  time  in  her  history. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


CLARK’S  IL\riI)  RISE  TO  PROMINENCE  IN 

con(;ress.— ms  famous  orations.— 

REMINISCENCES  AND  PERSON- 
AL characteristics. 

When  Champ  Clark  entered  the  House  of  Repr,  sent- 
alives,  the  fame  from'his  Tammany  Hall  speech  per- 
vaded Washington,  and  ])eculiar  conceptions  had  been 
formed  of  the  Missourian  who  was  coming,  as  the  New 
’i'oi  k V,h)iid  put  it,  to  rei»resent  Pike  County  and  his 
fellow-Pikers  in  the  American  Congress.  He  was  in- 
stantly one  of  the  most  interesting  figures  among  the 
new  inembers,  that  body  of  men  watched  so  carefully 
at  the  recurrence  of  each  new  session.  His  first  speech 
was  awaited  with  more  than  ordinary  interest.  This 
speech  took  x>lace  during  the  extra  session  of  Congress, 
in  and  was  on  the  subject  of  money.  It  was  cal- 
culated to  increase  rather  than  lessen  the  ilissourian’s 
fame  as  a speaker  given  to  the  use  of  unique  figures, 
powerful  logic,  and  remarkable  language. 

Clark’s  entire  career  is  one  of  a continuation  of  for- 
ensic victories;  each  speech,  each  heated  debate,  each 
spirited  colloquy  marked  a rise  in  the  estimation  of 
those  who  heard  him.  He  grew  as  a man  of  scholarly 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


239 


attainments  nuist,  when  the  jtopnlai-  conception  of  him 
is  eiToneons  at  the  outset. 

The  ideas  formed  of  Clark  in  many  quarters  wei’e  at 
first  mistaken.  He  was  looked  upon  and  regarded 
with  more  curiosity  than  respect.  He  had  come  into 
Congress  possessed  of  a reputation  gained  from  exag- 
gerated and  distorted  stories  in  the  New  York  papers. 
Although  at  first  those  who  did  not  know  Clark  inti- 
mately underestimated  him,  lie  was  soon  learned  to  be 
a man  of  more  than  ordinary  ability,  and  his  words 
were  widely  quoted,  often  in  quarters  where  abuse  and 
ridicule  had  first  been  heaped  upon  him. 

His  maiden  elfort  was  deliyered  August  10,  1803,  its 
subject  being  the  all-absorbing  topic,  to  consider  which 
the  Congress  of  the  United  States  had  been  called  into 
extraoi-dinai-y  session.  It  was  one  of  the  most  forcible 
and  pointed  etforts  deliyered  during  the  entire  session 
and  was  widely  commented  upon  and  quoted  in  all 
])arts  of  the  country.  ^Ir.  Clark  was  thoroughly  famil- 
iar with  the  question  under  discussion  and  had  ideas 
of  his  own  upon  the  subject.  He  beiieyed  with  all 
his  heart  in  the  doctrines  of  Richard  P.  Bland, 
and  few  of  Bland's  lieutenants  in  debate  proyed 
so  able,  powerful,  and  adroit  as  Clark.  Few  could 
put  a principle  in  a sentence  or  an  entire  speech  in  a 
j»aragraph  as  he  could.  In  his  first  speech  he  gaye 
an  apt  and  striking  description  of  the  panic  of  1893, 
which  contained  as  much  truth  as  wit.  He  declared 

—16— 


240 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


lliat  the  great  business  depression  had  been  produced 
I)V  AVall  Street,  but  that  it  had  gone  beyond  tlieir  con- 
trol. Said  he:  “They  started  it,  but  could  not  guide 

it.  They  sowed  the  wind  and  reaped  the  whirlwind. 
They  huA^e  realized  the  truth  of  the  old  dictum  that 
‘wicked  inventions  sometimes  return  to  plague  the  in- 
ventors.’ They  are  in  the  condition  of  the  philosopher 
who  took  a few  pieces  of  wood,  leather,  and  iron  and 
made  him  a devil,  and  after  he  had  made  him,  dis- 
covered that  the  devil  controlled  him  instead  of  his 
controlling  the  devil.” 

The  power  of  this  part  of  the  s])eech  is  instanced 
moi'e  tlian  otherwise  by  the  manner  in  which  Clark  was 
Jlayed  by  those  who  saw  things  so  dimly  that  they 
failed  in  an  appreciation  of  the  truth  of  his  statements, 
kbit  if  ever  histoi-y  does  justice  to  the  American  people, 
it  will  find  ample  evidence  to  bear  out  Clark’s  asser- 
tions and  will  discoveu”  that  the  panic  of  1893  was  in 
truth  a plan  of  interested  ones  to  force  upon  the  people 
the  repeal  of  a measure  hatched  in  and  by  Wall  Street. 
Clark’s  sentences  contained  meat,  food  for  thought; 
they  made  clear,  or,  rather,  drove  into  the  hearers,  a 
serious  fad,  upon  which  the  .Vmerican  people  may  j'et 
hnd  it  judicious  to  ponder. 

In  Congress,  Clark’s  speeches  are  few  in  number. 
Like  his  course  in  the  Missouri  Legislature,  he  never 
spoke  unless  he  said  something  worth  saying,  and 
while  his  speeches  are  not  so  great  in  number,  they  are 


CHAMP  CLARE. 


241 


more  widely  read  than  those  of  members  -who  effervesce 
so  frequently  that  their  words  carry  little  weight.  This 
is  due  not  alone  to  the  way  in  which  he  says  things,  but 
to  the  way  in  which  his  deductions  reach  home,  the 
keenness  with  which  his  sentences  are  pointed,  the  way 
his  paragraphs  are  illumined  with  bright  sayings,  the 
way  in  which  he  includes  aphorisms  in  his  speeches; 
aphorisms  which  in  instances  have  reached  into  every 
home  and  been  repeated  in  practically  every  fireside  to 
which  fhe  multifarious  American  newspaper  goes. 

In  debate  Clark  has  always  been  a dangerous  foe. 
In  a debate  during  the  extra  session,  on  October  2, 
18!k>,  Clark  spoke  on  the  race  question,  delivering  an 
immensely  practical  and  truthful  speech,  although  it 
overthrew  some  pet  theories.  Mr.  Wilson,  of  Washing- 
ton, interrupted  Mr.  Cdark,  during  this  sjieech,  by  en- 
deavoring to  draw  him  away  from  his  subject  and 
answer  some  interrogatories  upon  the  subject  of  the 
appointment  of  non-resident  Indian  agents  in  the  West. 
The  big  IMissourian  was  stormed  by  Wilson  with  all 
sorts  of  questions,  which  Clark  stood  for  awhile  good- 
naruredly;  then  W'ilson  said  that  “scalawags”  from 
Missouri  and  other  States  were  imported  and  made  In- 
dian agents  in  the  West.  This  aroused  Mr.  Clark,  and 
he  summarily  informed  the  inquisitive  member  from 
Washington  that  to  his  certain  knowledge  there  was 
not  a syllable  of  truth  in  the  statement.  “For  Mis- 


242 


FIVE  FAMOUS  AlWHOVRIASF. 


soui'i.’’  said  lu*,  “lias  fiiniislied  AVasliiiif^ton  with  iiiiie- 
ti  nllis  of  till  liraiiis  of  tlu*  Stale.’' 

On  anotliei-  occasion,  Air.  Bon  telle  interrn])ted  Mr. 
(’lark  with  a sneering  i-eiuark,  to  wliich  (’lark  thunder- 
ously re])li(‘d:  “Yon  keep  yonr  month  shut.  Yon  have 

mor(‘ monlh  and  less  brains  than  any  man  that  ever  sat 
in  the  American  ('onsi’ess.”  This  sally  was  crnshiiif;', 
and  Mr.  Bontelle  has  not  since  tieen  known  to  interrupt 
the  “member  from  Alissouri.” 

On  om*  occasion  Mr.  ( 'lark’s  readiness  of  retort  was 
illnsti'ated  by  an  instance  which  occni'red  during  the 
debate  on  the  bond  issue  in  18!)8.  Air.  Clark  had  .just 
i-eferred  to  -Judas  Iscariot  as  a ti-aitor  who  had,  despite 
his  other  faults,  “the  good  grace  to  hang  himself," 
when  Air.  laicey,  of  Iowa,  asked  him:  “AVas  not  Judas 

Iscariot  tlie  original  silver  inanT’  to  which  Air.  Clark, 
(|uick  as  a flash,  retorted  : “No;  so  far  as  I knowy  a Re- 

jmblican  wms  the  original  silver  man.  The  hrst  free 
silver  s]ieech  ever  made  in  the  American  Congress  was 
made  bv  AVilliam  H.  Allison,  of  Iowa,  a man  you  wmr- 
ship."  It  was  some  minutes  before  the  laughter  and 
ap]daiise  at  the  ex|)cnse  of  Air.  Lacey  subsided. 

During  the  first  two  years  of  Champ  Clark’s  service 
in  (Jongress,  he  made  tw’o  or  three  sjieeches  that  made 
him  famous  and  built  up  a rejmtation  held  in  reserve 
by  fortune  for  few.  His  versatility  was  evidenced  by 
his  ability  in  debate  on  all  ipiestions  before  Congress. 
The  members  and  galleries  wamld  sometimes  laugh. 


CEIMP  CLAEK 


243 


liiit,  as  Mr.  Bailey  says,  in  lime  it  would  be  learned  that 
Clark's  wit  and  odd  sentences  were  mediums  of  con- 
veying- some  striking  ideas  and  practical  views. 

A \Vashiugton  newspaper  coi  res])ondent,  whose 
writings  and  sayings  are  widely  cpioted,  once  wrote 
of  the  lirst  speech  he  ever  heard  Air.  Clark  make 
in  Congress.  Said  he:  “I  shall  never  forget  the 
first  time  J heard  him  speak.  Jt  was  on  one  of  S])ring- 
er’s  ‘i»op-gnn'  tai-iff  bills.  I had  started  to  leave  when 
1 was  arrested  by  his  'Air.  Chairman.'  I sat  down  and, 
after  making  impury  of  several  persons  in  my  vicinity, 
a gentleman  informed  me  that  it  was  Cham])  Clark,  of 
Alissouri.  There  was  no  atteni])t  at  flow  of  oratory, 
there  were  no  ‘tears'  in  his  voice,  no  'flowers’  in  his 
s])eech,  no  elo)[nence,  no  rhetoric.  It  was  a 'kitchen 
knife  whetted  on  a brick-bat.’  He  was  standing  near 
the  centei'  of  the  Democratic  side,  and  as  he  started 
into  a sentence  that  yon  knew  was  going  to  })rove 
both  argnment  and  epigram,  he  advanced  toward  the 
s]>eaker,  and  after  going  about  a dozen  feet,  he  would 
stop  in  front  of  some  member's  desk,  and  as  he  a])- 
])roached  the  climax  he  would  lean  over  the  desk  and 
shake  his  head  like  a terrier  shaking  a rat.  all  the  while 
words  ])onring  out  of  his  month  like  a cataract,  and 
thus  he  would  |)onr  a bi-oadside  into  the  enemy.  In 
my  day.  and  I have  been  about  this  capital  twenty 
years,  I have  known  few  men  of  the  House  so  much 
feai-ed.  There  are  better  orators  in  Congress  than  he; 


244 


FIVE  FAM0V8  MIESOVRIAFIS. 


but  lliere  are  ‘orators’  and  ‘orators.’  One  day  Andy 
Jackson  came  out  of  the  Senate  and  roared:  ‘There 

are  too  many  great  men  in  this  country  who  are  fit  for 
nothing.’  He  was  thinking  of  your  ‘orator’ — your 
orator  with  a voice  and  nothing  else.  About  the  poor- 
est stick  a constituency  can  send  to  Congress  is  an 
orator  who  is  an  ignoramus.” 

In  the  election  of  1894,  Mr.  Clark  suffered  from 
the  general  Democratic  defeat,  being  defeated  in  the 
Ninth  District  by  William  M.  Treloar,  of  Mexico,  Mo., 
by  a plurality  of  132,  although  the  vote  indicated  that 
between  three  thousand  and  thirty-five  hundred  Demo- 
crats had  failed  to  vote. 

Just  after  the  November  election  and  his  defeat 
for  reelection,  Mr.  Clark  made  a sjieech  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  that  gave  him  a very  substantial 
standing  among  the  scholars  of  the  American  Congress 
and  which  will  undoubtedly  live  in  the  memory  of  the 
American  people  because  of  its  historical  value.  It 
has  been  published  in  part  in  almost  every  newspaper 
in  the  United  States.  It  became  known  as  “The  Ob- 
scure Heroes  Speech.’’ 

]Mr.  Holman,  known  as  the  “Great  Objector,”  had 
been  engaged  in  a warfare  to  defeat  the  passage  of  a 
bill  relating  to  the  revenue-cutter  service,  and  he  called 
Clark  to  his  assistance  and  asked  him  to  make  a speech 
against  time,  that  the  bill  might  be  killed.  Mr.  Clark 
did  so,  and  such  a speech  for  such  a purpose  was  proba- 


CniMP  CLARK. 


245 


biy  never  delivered  before  that  time  in  Coiif^ress.  No- 
time-killing speech  -was  ever  listened  to  more  attent- 
i\  ely  and  with  more  interest  than  this  one.  Mr.  Clark 
spoke  for  forty  minutes  on  December  11,  1891,  and  tlie 
bill  was  eternally  killed,  while  Chamj)  Clark  had  im- 
mortalized himself  and  in  so  doing  had  made  a speech 
dealing  wiih  the  obscure  heroes  of  the  American  Revo- 
lution and  Civil  War,  which  made  for  him  the  fame  of 
a scholar  and  patriot.  The  speech  showed  more  plainly 
than  ever  the  speaker's  remarkable  memory  and  well- 
stocked  mind.  It  was  one  of  the  truly  great  efforts,  de- 
tailied  from  politics  and  political  issues,  made  in  the 
past  twenty  years  in  Congress. 

In  the  course  of  the  speech,  IMr.  Clark  went  into  th(> 
intricacies  of  border  history,  and  in  his  inimitable  style 
bronght  out  of  the  depths  many  incidents  showing  the 
unexampled  bravery  and  sacrificial  daring  of  the  men 
who  made  np  the  border  military  expeditions,  both  in 
the  Re^  olntion  and  the  Civil  War.  The  traditions  and 
fireside  tales  of  the  border  were  for  the  first  time 
told  in  Congress.  Names  and  deeds  lost  in  history 
were  rescued  by  Champ  Clark  and  reinstated  in  the 
hearts  of  the  American  jieople,  all  while  he  was  su]i- 
]»oi-ting  his  position  in  defense  of  the  obscure  hero,  to 
whom  another  representative  had  a short  time  before- 
alluded  scornfully.  Clark  wrote  on  the  pages  of  his- 
tory names  which  had  been  overlooked  in  the  formei' 
distributions  of  favor;  he  drew  from  their  obscurity  the 


246 


FIYE  FAMOVS  MISSOURIANS. 


liei'oes  in  skins  and  hoinespnn,  against  whom  there 
was  ne\’(H-  again  lifted  a voice  in  Congress.  Clark  took 
ohscnre  lives  and  made  them  famous,  showing  that  be 
hind  the  nameless  and  foi'gotten  hero  lay  the  spirit  of 
the  time  in  which  he  lived. 

The  speech  won  for  Clark  many  friendships,  none 
more  st:il>le  and  lasting  Than  that  of  Mr.  Holman,  who 
Ihrew  his  aims  atfectionately  around  the  young  Mis- 
souri member's  neck,  at  the  close  of  his  iirilliant  etfoi  t, 
and  bestowed  n]»on  him  lavish  congratnlations. 

In  rebinary,  18!>4,  Mic  ('lark  s]»oke  on  the  tariff 
(piestion,  winning  recognition  as  a trenchant  thinker 
on  economic  subjects.  This  speech  was  one  of  Mr. 
( lai’k's  ablest  and  most  ])owerfnl  efforts  on  an  eco- 
nomic snbject. 

After  his  retirement  fi'om  Congress,  Mr.  Clark  re- 
entered into  iiractice  af  Bowling  Creen,  living  a quiet 
life  for  two  years.  The  most  notable  incident  occurring 
during  his  retirement  was  the  trial  of  Dr.  J.  ( k Hearne, 
the  alleged  murderer  of  Amos  Stilwell,  a well-known 
])ork-])acker  of  Hannibal,  Missouri.  Mr.  Clark  was 
associated  with  the  pi-osecution  in  this  famous  case, 
which  stands  with  few  ]jarallels  as  a criminal  action 
of  national  fame.  One  interesting  fact  connected  with 
this  case  is  that  David  A.  Ball,  Clark's  old-time  friend 
and  law  partner,  was  one  of  the  attorneys  conducting 
the  defense.  The  trial  was  replete  with  incidents  of 
interest,  in  which  ('lark  and  Ball  figured.  One  or  two 


CB.UIP  CLARE. 


247 


will  suHice,  and  those  relate  to  the  aroumeuts  in  the 
case. 

When  Lieutenant-tJovenior  Ball  made  his  argu- 
ment in  defense  of  Hearne,  he  made  an  able  ])lea  for  the 
defendant,  weighiii”-  the  evidence  ciiticall y.  He  drew 
to  a climax  by  summariziiif*  his  arguments,  and  punctu- 
ated Ids  I'emarks  by  defying  ( 'lark,  who  was  to  follow' 
him,  to  reply  to  his  arguments  and  refute  his  i>roposi- 
tions.  In  the  jiresence  of  a crowded  court  room,  Ball 
would  jiaiise  at  the  close  of  some  argumentative  state- 
ment, taji  Clark  on  the  head,  and  bend  over  him,  utter 
ing  an  audible  detiance:  “Let  me  hear  yon  answ'er  that, 
Clark."  This  Mr.  Ball  kejit  u[)  for  some  time,  much 
to  the  ap])arent  annoyance  of  ('lark,  who  was  sitting 
writing  out  his  own  si)eech.  Bail  was  attemi)ting  to 
disconcert  him,  so  tinally  (.'lark  apjaailed  to  the  (.'ourt 
to  ]»rotect  him. 

(.'lark  rose  to  reply  to  Bali  while  deathlike  stillness 
filled  the  room.  B,  I*,  (tiles,  one  t)f  C'lark's  associate 
counsel,  who  was  afterwai'd  elected  to  (''cmgress,  but 
died  before  taking  his  seat,  leaned  over  and  whis])ered 
to  ('lark  in  audible  tones,  the  great  audience  bending 
over  to  catch  his  words,  the  groups  of  newspaper  cor- 
resjiondents  reaching  over  to  hear  what  (tiles  would 
say  to  (tlai-k;  “Bcmember,  ('lark,  that  the  eyes  of  Mis- 
souri are  on  you,  just  as  the  eyes  of  the  nation  w'ere  on 
yon  at  Tammany  Hall.  Make  the  speech  of  your  life.” 
All  eyes  were  turned  toward  ('lark,  who  w'as  standing 


24S 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


ready  to  address  the  jury,  under  circumstances  seldom 
witnessed  in  a court  room,  and  after  hearing  from  an 
associate  counsel  words  seldom  heai-d  in  a murder  trial. 
A fter  a moment’s  stillness,  Clark  heftan  one  of  the  most 
stirring  ]>rosecuting  speeches  ever  heard  in  Missouri. 
It  set  the  court  room  afire  and  made  the  defendani 
wince  under  the  cutting  assaults  of  Clark,  who  cast 
aside  mercy,  and  clung  to  the  rigid  lines  of  cold,  harsh, 
unanswerable  justice.  ITis  denunciation  of  Hearne 
was  ringing  and  vigorous.  When  he  drew  to  a close 
with  a powerful  excoriation  of  the  defendant,  the  great 
crowd  broke  into  cheers,  while  Hearne  sat  and  shiv- 
ei'ed  under  the  hard  words  of  his  accuser. 

In  18!1()  ]\Ir.  Clark  was  returned  to  Congress  by  an 
overwhelming  majority. 

lie  was  made  one  of  the  members  of  the  impoidant 
Committee  on  Foreign  Relations  in  the  Fifty-fifth  Con- 
gress, which  committee  had  one  of  the  most  ini])drtant 
l»osts  to  fill  during  the  troublesome  days  preceding  the 
Spanish- American  AV'ar.  Mr.  Clark  justified  this  ap- 
]»ointment  and  honor  from  Speaker  Reed  by  marked 
ability  and  signal  yuitriotism.  He  was  very  ofteii 
called  upon  to  draft  imi)ortant  re])orts  of  the  commit 
tee  and  deal  with  some  of  the  most  important  questions 
of  the  time.  He  was  one  of  the  most  useful  members. 

During  the  discussions  of  the  situation  in  Cuba,  Mr. 
Clark  took  a strong  position  in  favor  of  the  recognition 
of  Cuba,  and  was  one  of  the  most  ardent  supporters  of 


CnAMP  CLARK. 


249 


the  war  with  Spain,  although  he  differed,  as  did  some 
of  the  Republicans  and  all  the  Democrats  of  the  House 
of  .Rej)resentatiTes,  with  the  administration’s  policy 
after  the  war  was  closed. 

.AFr.  Clark  delivered  speeches  in  this  Congress  which 
added  materially  to  his  fame,  notably  the  speech  known 
as  “The  Country  Editor  Speech,”  which  was  the  means 
of  killing  a measure  calculated  to  do  harm,  as  Jkir. 
Clark  saw  it,  to  thousands  of  ])ublishers  in  the  country, 
for  no  particnlar  object  of  pul)lic  good.  This  speech 
was  prot)ably  more  widely  quoted  than  any  other  ever 
delivered  by  Mi\  Clark,  nnless  it  be  “The  Obscure 
Hentes  Speech.”  It  won  for  the  IMissourian  the  evei-- 
lasting  friendship  of  the  rnral  press.  Some  criticisms 
were  passed  uj)ou  him  at  the  time,  which  have  since 
died  out  practically  unnoticed.  These  wmre  to  the 
effect  that  the  speech  was  calculated  as  a sail  trimmed 
to  catch  the  favor  of  the  rural  press,  but  those  who  re- 
numdmr  IMr.  Clark’s  own  trials  as  a country  editor  will 
su]>i»ort  a ]40sition  assunnng  his  absolute  honesty  and 
sincerity  in  that  speech. 

Another  speech,  especially  line  and  probably  as 
logical  and  statesmanlike  as  any  delivered  in  Congress 
in  exposition  of  the  position  of  those  who  patriotically 
opj;K)sed  the  annexation  of  Hawaii,  was  delivered  June 
11,  1S9S.  This  speech  was  replete  with  striking  argu- 
ments against  a new  depaiture  in  the  administrative 
policies  of  the  American  Rei)ublic.  Clark  used  satire 


250 


FITE  FAM0V8  3II8SOURIAN8. 


in  tliis  oi'tition  to  accoiii])lis]i  his  ])urpose  and  drive  his 
loi’ic  home.  Ihtrts  of  tliis  speecli  oecasioned  more  re- 
seutmeul  from  the  o])])osition  than  any  speech  of  like 
jtosifion.  Clai-k’s  text  was  the  ])er])etnity  of  the  Re- 
]ml)lic,  and  Ids  S])eech  will  commend  itself  for  all  time 
as  a ])atriotic,  sensible,  and  1hoii<i'htfnl  view. 

I’ei-haps  the  jireatest  oration  of  Mr.  Clark’s  entire 
careei-  wais  his  address  on  the  life  and  character  of 
Francis  Freston  Iflai)-,  jnnior,  delivered  on  the  occa- 
sion of  the  ])i  esenlation  of  statues  of  Blair  and  Benton, 
Ihe  two  j>reatest  Missourians  in  history;  the  latter  gr,  at 
in  Jacksonian  statc'smanship,  the  othei-  in  war.  This 
oration  was  a serious,  scholarly  elfort,  more  biograph- 
ic,il  and  historical  in  its  nature  than  oj'atorical.  It  has 
been  incbided  by  Associate  ,fnstice  David  J.  Brewer,  of 
Ihe  Fnited  Slates  Supreme  Court,  and  other  eminent 
American  scholars,  in  a work  entitled  “The  World’s 
(ireatest  Orations,”  the  compilation  of  which  is  the 
work  of  dustice  Brewei-  and  othei“  distinguished  men. 
The  oration  cerlainly  deserves  ])lace  among  American 
orations  as  one  of  the  brightest  and  truest  i)ortraits  of 
a gi’eat  American,  whose  place  is  w'ell  fixed  in  his  conn 
try’s  histoi-y.  It  stands  as  a scholar’s  tribute  to  a war- 
rior and  is  without  ecjnal.  Clark’s  studious  contem- 
jdation  and  analysis  of  the  man  who  had  more  to  do 
with  saving  the  border  States  to  the  Fnion  than  any 
other  one  great  leader  will  alwaiys  be  of  interest  as  long 
as  the  American  rebellion  and  its  environments  are  of 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


251 


interest.  Clark  ])nt  into  language  the  most  dignitied 
and  masterful  estimate  of  a great  (diaracter  pro- 
nounced in  (’ongress  in  several  decades.  It  breathed 
the  s])irit  of  its  subject.  It  told  ho^Y  it  was  that  IMis- 
souri  gave  to  the  American  '\hilhalla  the  statue  of  Fran- 
cis P.  Blair,  the  gifted,  honored  son  of  a famous  char- 
acter. who  is  always  of  interest  because  of  his  close  yet 
indei)endent  relations  with  Andrew  .Jackson,  whose 
name  itself  is  an  American  classic. 

One  of  ^Ir.  Clark’s  speeches  on  the  Cuban  situation 
aroused  so  much  interest  and  enthusiasm  iu  Congress, 
at  a time  Avhen  excitement 'was  almost  at  fever  heat, 
that  his  utterances  were  taken  as  representative  of  the 
idea  of  the  times,  and  the  speech  was  translated  into 
French  and  Oerman  and  extensively  reco])ied  in  Euro- 
]>ean  countries  with  edilorial  comment.  This  is  a dis- 
tinction which  comes  to  few  re]»resentatives  in  the 
Lower  House  of  Congress. 


Though  Hr.  ('lark  is  possessed  of  sound  judgiiieiir. 
of  a statesman's  courage  and  fearlessness  iu  convic- 
tion. and  is  an  able,  jiaiustaking  worker  in  committees 
and  the  other  departments  of  legislation  aside  from  the 
arena  of  debate,  he  may  I)e  said  to  stand  u]K.m  a lasting 
fame  founded  u])on  a score  of  great  orations,  some  of 
them  in  theii*  class  desermng  to  be  received  by  the 
-student  of  the  future  as  some  of  the  greatest  iu  the 
language. 


252 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI AFIS. 


Some  of  his  best  efforts  have  been  delivered  outside 
of  the  halls  of  Congress  or  of  legislative  bodies.  Many 
of  his  speeches  which  have  won  him  high  position  in 
Tmblic  esteem  were  delivered  without  the  I'ange  of  par- 
tisan politics  and  upon  subjects  in  no  way  allied  with 
]>olitics.  As  a lecturer,  his  success  has  been  distinct- 
ive, having  been  cordially  and  enthusiastically  re- 
ceived by  some  of  the  most  critical  and  cultured  aud- 
iences in  the  United  t^tates.  His  utterances  attract 
as  much  attention  as  those  of  any  man  in  public  life. 
Even  some  of  the  metropolitan  press,  opposing  him 
most  bitterly  and  hatiiig  him  most  religiously,  are 
eager  to  get  his  speeches  and  utterances  into  their 
[u-iiits.  Cham])  Claik  is  one  of  the  most  successful 
])ublic  speakers  in  the  United  states.  Not  only  is  his 
success  substantial  at  the  time  of  delivery,  but  the 
closer  the  scrutiny  of  his  speeches  and  orations,  when 
‘embalnn'd  in  type,"  the  more  food  for  thought,  the 
more  interest,  and  the  more  information  can  be  found. 
Cham])  Clark  will  be  quoted  for  years  after  he  is  dead; 
therefore,  it  must  be  admitted  that  his  success  as  a 
sjjeaker  is  not  due  to  his  oratorical  ability,  for,  strictly 
s])eaking,  that  is  but  ordinary.  His  delivery  is  force- 
ful, but  not  polished;  it  is  what  he  says,  and  not  how  he 
says  it,  that  wins  attention.  Ilis  success  as  a speaker 
and  writer  is  due  to  the  fact  that  he  has  mastered  the 
art  of  expression  in  the  English  tongue. 


CHAMP  CL  AUK. 


253 


Despite  this  success,  Avhich  involves  delivery  and 
construction  of  liis  speeches,  Mr.  Clark  himself  not  lonj>- 
a”'o  said:  “it  may  interest  young  speakers  who  suffer 

from  that  most  excruciating  and  exasperating  disease 
or  affliction  known  as  ‘stage  fright’  to  learn  that  even 
veterans  are  liable  to  suffer  from  it.  At  any  rate,  1 
have  had  it  so  bad  twice  in  the  last  eleven  years  that  T 
could  hardly  speak  at  all.  In  1S8S,  when  I placed 
David  A.  Ball  in  nominatioji  for  lieutenant-governor, 
my  tongue  was  so  dry  that  I thought  it  would  stick  to 
the  roof  of  my  mouth  in  spite  of  all  1 could  do,  and  my 
knees  knocked  together  as  though  I had  ague.  Again, 
in  1S!)?>,  at  Tammany  Hall,  when  I began  I had  as  severe 
a case  of  stage  fright  as  any  girl  that  ever  appeared  be- 
fore the  foot-ligliTs  for  the  first  time.  But,  in  each  in- 
stance, there  was  something  in  the  first  sentence  that 
set  the  audience  to  laughing  and  applauding,  and  the 
dreadful  sensation — for  that ’s  what  it  is — passed  off' 
suddenly.  So  far  as  I know.  There  is  neither  jireventa- 
tive  nor  cure  for  this  strange  disease,  if  disease  it  may 
be  called.  There  is  just  a little  unpleasant  nerv- 
ousness immediately  jireceding  The  beginning  of  any 
sjieech  of  importance  that  I make.  Governor  Charles 
r.  Johnson — a rare  judge  in  matters  oratorical — once 
told  me  that  if  I ever  ceased  to  feel  that  way,  it  would 
be  an  infallible  sign  that  my  powers  as  a public  speaker 
were  on  the  wane.” 


254 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MI880VRIAFS. 


]\]r.  Clark's  orations  and  speec  lies  are  ordinarily 
earefnlly  inepai-eil  1>,\  liini.  lie  molds  each  sentenee 
and  eonstrnets  mndi  ]);ii-ayrai)li  willi  care;  therefore  a 
laiy(‘  jiart  of  the  weight  they  eari-y.  ftebates  hy  the 
score  in  the  iMissonri  Li'gislatim'  and  in  Congress,  how- 
evm-,  ]>ro'e  that  he  does  not  have  to  ]ire]»ai-e  his 
speeches,  for  his  ready  wit  and  his  ability  to  think  and 
weigh  argnrnent  earefnlly  in  a inoinent  jila.ce  him  at 
(lie  head  id'  exleinpoianeons  speakers;  but  his  greatest 
speeches  and  orations  are  based  n]Hm  serious  thought, 
lie  is  an  assiduous  student,  as  may  be  inferred  from  his 
writings  and  sjieeches.  llis  methods  of  study  have 
been  careful  and  conducted  w ith  a i ('tentive  mind  ujion 
fiuitfnl  lines.  No  man  in  public  life  has  been  moi'e 
misr(']>resented  than  he,  chiefly  bm-ause  of  his  inde- 
jiendence  of  character  and  tin*  manner  in  which  he  very 
often  condncts  a wordy  war.  llis  eccentricities  of 
character,  exaggerated  and  distorted  beyond  recogni- 
tion, have  also  led  to  a misconception  of  him.  Clark’s 
sjieeches  are  sometimes  assumed  to  rejiresent  him  as  a 
juggler  of  woi-ds,  yet  nothing  could  be  falser.  He  uses 
words  in  a peculiar  way  for  the  sinijde  reason  that  he 
thinks  that  way.  He  thinks  to  the  point,  sti-ikes  from 
his  thought,  and  hits  the  mark. 

IMr.  Clark  imssesses  a hajipy  facility  in  coining 
jihi'asi^s  w’hich  stick  to  the  memory.  In  the  Tammany 
Hall  s]ieech  he  (hristened  the  State  of  his  adojition 
and  residence  “Imperial  ^Missouri,”  an  apiijellation  so 


GEAMP  CLARK. 


255 


fittiiig  and  fetching  that  it  will  stick  forever.  In  all 
likelihood  Missouri  writers  and  orators  will  use  the 
I)hrase  years  after  Missourians  have  forgotten  wdio 
first  apj)lied  it.  He  fastened  upon  Congressman  Joseph 
Cr.  Cannon,  of  Illinois,  chairman  of  the  great  Commit- 
lee  on  Api>ropriations,  the  sobriquet  of  “the  Dancing- 
Dervish  of  Danville,”  because  of  Cannon's  queer  g.yra- 
tions  in  debate.  The  phrase  had  a great  run  in  the 
papers  at  the  time,  and  to  its  appropriateness  the 
Chicago  C'h7'onide  devoted  three  columns  with  a number 
of  illustrations.  He  conferred  upon  General  Charles 
H.  Grosvenor,  of  Ohio,  the  nickname  of  “the  Grim  Old 
Lion  of  Athens,”  which  the  gray-haired,  vitriolic  gener- 
al took  in  good  jtart  and  which  is  yet  frequently  used 
in  the  public  prints.  “Free  Trade  incubators”  was 
the  unique  phrase  which  Mr.  Clark  applied  in  debate 
once  to  the  opponents  of  the  Wilson  Tariff  Bill,  and  it 
had  great  vogue  at  the  time.  The  New  York  Journal 
gives  Clark  credit  for  denominating  the  supporters  of 
the  McKinley  administration  “McHannaites,”  which 
word  rapidly  came  into  use  among  the  political  oppo- 
nents of  President  McKinley. 

Mr.  Clark  is  regarded  as  an  intense  partisan,  yet  to 
his  intimate  friends  and  acquaintances  he  is  known  as 
one  of  the  most  forgiving  foes  and  faithful  friends,  de- 
spite political  differences.  In  Congress  he  commands 
the  universal  respect  of  the  Republicans,  who  fear  him 

in  debate,  and  some  of  the  great  Republican  leaders 
—n~ 


256 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI A~NS. 


know  liini  so  well  that  they  comit  him  among  their  fast 
friends.  Mr.  t'lark's  attitude  to  Speaker  Keed  invoked 
the  ])olilical  wi-atii  and  j)ersona1  friendliness  of  that 
fearless,  inde[»enden1 , and  brainy  son  of  IMaine.  Mr. 
Keed  and  IMi-.  ('lark  have  often  sjtoken  of  each  other 
comjdinientarily.  Ahov('  all  things,  Mr.  ('lark  admires 
in  Reed  his  ])oli(ieal  independence.  The  force  of  char- 
act(M'  which  rules  the  Maine  statesman  is  of  the  sort 
which  is  found  dominating  ('hamp  ('lark,  and  in  many 
ways  they  are  kindred  s]»irits,  althongh  ])olitically  they 
divide  and  differ  on  e\ery  line. 

The  friendshi])S  of  ('hamp  Clark  are  interesting. 
Probably  the  best  knowm  in  Missouri  is  his  friendship 
with  David  A.  Kail,  formerly  lieutenant-governor. 
Kail  and  (>lark  started  into  life  ])ractically  togethei’; 
they  have  been  allied  many  times,  and  though  some- 
times clouds  have  gathered  over  each,  the  frieudshi])  of 
('al  ly  days  has  stood  snjueme.  This  fiieiidshii)  is  well 
known  to  those  familiar  with  the  political  history  of 
Democi-atic  IMissouii.  For  two  such  leaders  as  (!'lark 
and  Kail  to  srait  and  travel  thi'ough  life  arm  in  arm, 
allied  in  \ icfory  and  defeat,  is  a most  interesting  sight. 
Kail's  nature  is  as  loyal  as  loyalty  evei-  becomes,  while 
Clark's  friendship  reaches  out  past  ambition,  jiast  self- 
ishness, until  it  luei'ts  its  object,  tried,  tested,  and  true. 
Kail  and  Clark  have  stood  togiThei-  in  more  than  one 
battle  in  .Missouri  jiolitics  as  w'ell  as  in  life,  and  may 
stand  together  in  many  more  before  the  inexorable  laws 


CHAMP  CLARK. 


257 


of  Xatiire  tenuiiiate  tlieii-  earthly  relations.  Both  are 
men  whose  lignres  have  been  targets  for  malicious 
slanders,  but  neither  has  fallen  under  such  assaults, 
nor  will  either,  for  both  are  men  of  true  manly  worth 
and  are  needed  for  their  worth. 

In  Washington,  Clark's  friendship  with  Joseph  "Uh 
Bailey  approaches  a number  of  friendships  of  publi<' 
men  in  interest.  Bailey  and  ('lark  are  vastly  different 
in  many  ways,  \et  somewhere  in  each  other's  nature 
they  find  a res])onsive  chord,  ('lark's  fi-iendship  with 
personages  of  lesser  im[)ortance  will  someday  be  of 
greater  interest  than  they  are  to-day,  for  nothing  can 
illustrate  the  man  better  than  his  friendships. 

Clark  is  known  for  one  i)eculiar  fact,  rare  in  many 
types  of  i)ublic  men — for  his  familiarity  with  the  Bible. 
This  is  })ractically  a matter  of  common  knowledge.  Xo 
man  in  public  life  quotes  the  Scriptures  more  frequent- 
ly. more  accurately,  or  more  appropriately.  Upon  read- 
ing his  famous  oration  on  Blair,  an  eminent  minister  of 
the  gospel,  whose  name  carries  weight  and  catches 
attentive  ears  in  religious  circles  everywhere,  said: 
‘‘f'hani])  Clark  knows  more  about  the  Bible  than  many 
preachers.”  Someone  once  asked  IMr.  ('lark  how  he 
came  to  read  (he  Bible  so  much.  He  rejilied: 

“H'hen  I was  a boy,  my  father  wanted  me  to  study 
the  Bible,  and  I would  not  do  it  very  much.  So  he  ran 
across  a small  book,  .a  sort  of  vest-pocket  volume — con- 
taining the  Declaration  of  Indei)endence,  the  old  Arti- 


258 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


cles  of  Confederation,  tlie  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  and  Washington’s  Farewell  Address,  which  he 
gave  to  me  with  these  words : ‘My  son,  as  jmu  will  not 

read  your  Bible,  here  is  the  next  best  book;  study  it.’ 

“J  followed  his  advice.  ‘Yon  can  lead  a horse  to  the 
branch,  but  you  can’t  make  him  drink.’  So,  while  my 
father  could  make  me  go  to  church,  he  could  not  force 
me  to  study  theology.  We  attended  Sunday  worship 
at  a log  meeting-house  called  ‘den’s  Creek,’  in  Wash- 
ington Coiintj',  Kentucky.  Year  the  center  was  a 
huge,  square  post  to  hold  up  the  roof.  When  the  ser- 
mon did  not  interest  me,  I would  curl  myself  u]j  behind 
that  j)OSt,  get  out  my  ‘political  Bible,’  and  go  to  work  on 
it.  I keitt  that  up  until  I knew  by  heart  the  Declara 
tion  of  Independence,  the  old  Articles  of  Confederation, 
the  Constitution,  and  Washington’s  Farewell  Address, 
— not  an  unhealthy  mental  exercise,  by  any  manner  of 
means. 

“T  am  not  certain  that  I wonld  ever  have  studied  the 
Bible  excej)t  for  a sort  of  accident.  My  father  was 
bitterly  opposed  to  my  reading  novels.  He  kept  me 
from  it  as  long  as  he  could  control  me.  That  I made 
up  for  lost  time  in  that  regard  goes  without  saying.  He 
was  always  buying  and  borrowing  histories  and  biog- 
raphies for  me  to  read — and  thus  formed  in  me  a habit 
which  abides  to  this  day.  Once,  however,  he  came 
across  the  most  fascinating  romance  ever  written.  It 
was  published  in  the  guise  of  a biography,  and  was  en- 


CHAMP  CLAPE. 


259 


titled  ‘William  Wirt’s  Life  of  Patrick  Henry.’  Neither 
good  Sir  Walter  Scott  nor  Rider  Haggard  ever  drew  on 
their  imagination  more  than  did  William  Wirt  in  the 
prex)aration  of  that  book.  Father  brought  it  home  and 
I read  it  as  Old  Harper,  of  Kentncky,  ran  his  horses, 
‘from  eend  to  eend.'  It  contained  Patrick's  great  lyric 
speech  before  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses;  precix*- 
itating  the  Revolution,  which  still  stirs  the  heart  like 
strains  of  martial  music.  Of  course  it  completely  fas- 
cinated me;  but  the  sentence  which  took  most  thorough 
l)OSsession  of  my  mind  was  this:  ‘The  race  is  not  always 
to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong.’  I pondered 
that  jiaradox  wonderingly  in  my  heart.  I told  my 
father  what  a great  speech  it  was  and  what  a magnifi- 
cent sentence  it  was.  He  took  my  breath  away  by  say- 
ing; ‘My  son,  King  Solomon,  and  not  Patrick  Henry, 
wrote  that  sentence  which  you  admire  so  much.  Read 
your  Bible  as  eagerly  as  yon  do  histories  and  biogra- 
phies and  you  will  hnd  hundreds  of  others  fully  as  mag- 
nificent.’ I was  much  surprised,  but  took  him  at  his 
word,  and  have  been  reading  the  Bible  ever  since,  with 
constantly  increasing  jirofit  and  delight.  To  say  noth- 
ing of  its  religions  value,  it  is  the  best  book  in  the  world 
to  quote  from.  Whatever  knowledge  I have  of  it  dates 
from  the  day  that  my  father  placed  William  Wirt’s 
‘Life  of  Patrick  Henry’  in  my  hands.” 

Mr.  Clark  has  an  interesting  family  and  lives  in  the 
utmost  simiilicity.  Mrs.  Clark  is  a brtght  woman,  in 


260 


FlYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


whom  Champ  Clai-k’s  life,  since  his  marriage,  has  cen 
tered.  Tlie  two  children  of  the  honsehohl  are  splendid 
sjiecimens  of  tyiiical  American  child-intellioence.  The 
golden-hairi'd  little  dan<>hter,  Genevieve,  named  after 
her  mother,  is  the  joy  of  her  parents.  Tfennett,  born  on 
Jackson’s  Day,  is  a promising  young  Democrat,  with 
yonthfnl  precocity  and  remarkable  boyish  shrewdness. 
Two  children  have  been  lost  by  l\Ir.  Clark  and  wdfe, 
little  Cliani])  and  Ann  Hamilton,  who  became  known  at 
the  Missouri  capital  as  the  “belle  of  Pike.”  Neither 
lived  to  ten  yeai-s  of  age. 


Mr.  Clark's  life  is  brightened  with  an  accomplished 
fame,  growing  brighter  in  each  jiassing  year,  and  if  he 
lives  to  serve  many  more  terms  in  Congress,  he  will 
rank  among  the  most  famous  men  of  his  generation,  for 
he  builds  upon  his  fame  with  every  oration  he  delivers. 

Those  who  have  misrepresented  him,  slandered  him, 
abused  him,  sometimes  for  that  which  he  could  nor 
lielp,  have  already  In  ed  to  be  chagrined.  The  chagrin 
will  grow  until  envy  itself  is  consumed. 

His  is  a life  of  greatest  interest,  in  conception,  in  its 
formative  periods,  in  its  successes  and  defeats,  in  its 
prime,  in  its  apiiroaching  zenith,  and  the  end  is  not  yet. 
He  has  built  unconsciously,  undesignedly  upon  a good 
foundation,  laid  by  a careful  father,  until  the  struct- 
ure commands  admiration  everywhere.  His  footsteps 


CTIAMP  CLARK. 


261 


have  been  upward,  tliougli  bis  bglit  lias  been  always 
against  the  greatest  odds. 

The  brilliant  Ileauchanips,  whose  name  Kentucky 
cherishes,  have  an  illnstrions  descendant  who  will 
carry  their  name  to  pedestals  high  and  great. 


I 


\ 


'yVL  . ^ 


JAMES  n.  GREENWOOD.  LL.D., 


SCHOLAR  AND  EDUCATOR. 


■ - Oi 

: v*.- 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  life  of  Dr.  (ireeinvood  is  typical  of  the  develoji- 
meut  possible  in  the  middle  West  during  the  last  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  Born  and  reared  on  tlie 
farm,  he  endured  the  hardships  and  reaped  the  benefits 
incident  to  pioneer  life  on  the  broad  prairies  of  Illinois 
and  in  the  diyersitied  fields  of  northern  Missouri.  Ac- 
customed to  hard  work  and  fond  of  the  chase,  this 
young  Missourian  of  fine  physique  and  abundant  neryi? 
force  enjoyed  excei»tional  opportunities  for  the  deyeh 
opment  of  the  senses;  hence  yery  keen  perceptions 
which  haye  characterized  the  man.  To  him  rural  life 
was  a fitting  school,  a real  stimulus  to  an  unusually  act- 
iye,  yaried.  and  successful  career. 

Here  among  the  plain  common  people,  where  life  is 
always  serious,  he  acquired  the  clear’  insight  into  the 
ways  and  purposes  of  people  that  constitutes  a basic 
element  in  eyery  great  character. 

Superintendent  Greenwood  has  little  taste  for  the 
ordinary  amusements  of  life.  Unlike  many  other  great 
men,  he  is  always  accessible,  yery  genial  and  sociable. 
He  has  lived  a notably  busy  life;  he  has  traveled  much 
and  read  widely;  he  has  enjoyed  companionship  and 
business  relations  with  all  sorts  of  people;  a delightful 
conversationalist  among  scholars  and  men  of  affairs, 
he,  like  Gladstone,  has  been  fond  of  mingling,  at  times, 
among  people  in  the  simplest  walks  of  life. 


266 


INTRODUCTION. 


He  has  long  been  known  as  an  unusually  expert 
mathematician.  This,  however,  is  only  one  of  many 
attainments,  and  probably  not  his  greatest;  for  his  . 
resources  in  history,  literature,  philosophy,  and  art  are, 
beyond  doubt,  equally  great.  Herein  lies  the  charm  of 
the  man, — possessed  of  remarkable  talent  in  many 
fields  of  human  endeavor,  he  is  characterized  by  ex- 
treme modesty  and  unusual  simplicity  in  style  of  dress 
and  manner  of  life.  In  educational  circles  Superintend- 
ent Greenwood  has  been  a dread  to  superficial  innova- 
toi'S,  quacks,  and  shams;  he  has  for  a (piarter  of  a cen- 
tury held  his  own  in  the  vei'y  vanguard  of  the  progres 
sive  educational  column.  For  many  years  a conspicu- 
ous figure  in  the  national  councils  of  education,  he  is 
universally  respected  and  admired  by  the  school  men  of 
America.  In  the  committees  of  the  National  Educa- 
tional Association,  which  have  formulated  the  great 
principles  now  controlling  our  educational  practice,  he 
has  been  a potent  factor;  doubtless  there  has  not  been  a 
single  measure  of  far-reaching  consequence  before  that 
organization  for  twenty  years  on  which  Dr.  Greenwood 
has  not  been  heard.  As  a public  lecturer,  a magazine 
writer,  and  an  author  he  is  widely  known,  and  has 
exerted  no  small  inlluence  in  making  up  the  body  of  our 
permanent  educational  doctrine. 

He  is  possessed  of  rare  judgment  in  discriminating 
among  men  and  measures.  To  this  is  due  more  largely 


INTRODUCTION. 


267 


than  to  any  other  cause  tlie  uniciue  and  envied  position 
of  Kansas  City  in  the  educational  world. 

He  is  above  all  a fair  man,  a frank  and  honest  man,  ' 
never  known  to  screen  himself  or  to  disguise  his 
purposes  behind  masks  of  any  sort.  He  is  a gener- 
ous, whole-souled,  great-hearted  iMissourian,  in  whose 
achievements  onr  splendid  State  and  all  its  citizens 
have  reason  to  take  profound  pride,  wlu)se  life  every 
aspiring  young  iMissourian  may  well  afford  to  emnlate. 


CHAPTER  I. 


I5RIEF  ACCOl'NT  OF  AXCESTRY.— EARLY  LIFE 
IN  ILLINOLS  AND  MIi<b>OLAIL— KECOMEvS 
A STUDENT  AND  FITS  HIMSELF 
FOR  TEACHING. 

It  is  doubtful  if  there  has  ever  lived  a man.  not 
graduated  from  any  institution  of  learning,  who  has 
attained  the  prominence  in  educational  affairs  that  has 
James  ^1.  Greenwood. 

In  the  person  of  Dr.  Oreenwodd  is  found  an  exam 
])le  of  the  superintendent  of  one  of  the  leading  school 
systems  of  America,  honored  with  the  highest  offices 
within  the  gift  of  his  co-workers,  who  is  not  an  alumnus 
of  any  instit^6on  and  who  attended  school  but  seven 
years  of  his  life  I 

Perhaps  it  was  best  for  himself,  as  well  as  those 
whom  he  inHuenced  in  his  professional  province,  that 
he  was  not  educated  within  the  bounds  of  an  university 
curriculum,  for  the  world  has  been  Greenwood's  school, 
from  which  he  has  derived  some  of  the  most  beneficial 
lessons,  which  doubtless  he  could  not  have  learned  had 
he  been  educated  elsewhere;  and  from  this  experience 
many  traits  of  his  personality  were  developed  that  are 
not  common  to  many  university-trained  educators. 


270 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


During  the  reigns  of  James  I.  and  Charles  I.,  tlie 
spint  of  Puritanism,  which  had  been  developing  in 
England  for  many  years,  continued  more  than  ever  to 
leaven  the  society  of  the  country  and  even  Parliament 
itself.  And  so  when  the  court  of  High  Commission  be- 
gan its  lutiless  persecution  of  the  Puritans,  that  sect 
could  no  longer  subject  itself  to  tortures  more  excruci 
atiug  than  those  of  the  most  barbarous  ages,  and  ac- 
cordingly they  secured  patents  and  companies  for  the 
organization  of  settlements  in  the  New  World. 

From  1G29  to  1G40  the  Puritan  exodus  continued, 
and  the  coast  of  New  England,  from  Maine  to  Virgin- 
ia, was  peopled  with  their  settlements.  Among  the 
twenty  thousand  or  more  who  came  to  America  in  this 
interim  was  a band  who  settled  in  Virginia  in  1635 — ■ 
five  years  after  John  Winthroj)  had  fouuded  Boston. 
In  this  band  of  people  who  had  left  “dcn^ohl  England” 
for  a place  where  they  might  have  ‘‘freednm  to  worship 
God,”  was  a family  bearing  the  name  of  Greenwood, 
former  residents  of  Yorkshire. 

In  common  with  the  other  colonists,  this  rugged 
family  braved  the  storms  of  winter  in  their  rude  huts, 
fought  the  wild  beasits  and  treacherous  Indians  and 
adapted  the  soil  to  cultivation.  This  family  became 
more  or  less  conspicuous  all  during  the  colonial  history 
of  Virginia.  James  M.  Greenwood  is  a lineal  descend- 
ant of  this  family,  they  having  been  his  paternal 
ancestors, 


■JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


271 


About  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  there 
emigrated  to  America  from  Scotland  a family  by  the 
name  of  Mickleborough.  The  father  and  mother  of  this 
Scotch  family  were  the  maternal  great-grandparents  of 
James  ]\I.  Greenwood.  One  of  the  daughters  of  this 
household  married  a man  named  Daniel,  Greenwood's 
great-grandfather.  A daug'hter  of  this  union  married 
I’eytoii  Foster,  a son  of  William  Foster,  a South  Caro- 
linan  by  birth  and  a descendant  of  a French  family  that 
settled  in  the  Palmetto  State.  AMlliam  Foster  served 
with  distinction  under  George  Washington.  Peyton 
Foster's  eldest  daughter,  Jeannette  Foster,  married 
Edmund  Greenwood — the  jtarents  of  Dr.  James  M. 
Greenwood. 


In  1837  the  JNIississippi  Valley  was  in  most  places  a 
desert  region.  Here  and  there,  of  course,  the  sturdy 
pioneers  had  begun  to  reclaim  spots  of  it  from  the  abo- 
rigines, but  in  the  main  the  whole  region  presented 
the  same  asjiect  that  it  did  when  the  creation  of  the 
vast  domain  was  completed. 

In  no  country  does  time  bring  about  such  revolu- 
tionary changes  as  in  America,  particularly  in  the 
^^'est.  Even  it  is  difficult  for  those  well  learned  in  his 
lory  to  conceive  that  there  are  men  to-day  active  in  the 
world's  affairs  who  in  boyhood  lived  in  the  great  Miss- 
issippi A'alley  when  the  greater  part  of  that  enormous 
territory  was  a land  luactically  primeval. 

—18— 


272 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


In  the  western  part  of  this  country  the  buffalo 
roamed  in  countless  herds;  in  the  foi’est  the  bear,  deer, 
turkey,  and  wild-cat  lived  undisturbed.  Near  the 
northern  limits  of  this  domain  the  woodman’s  axe  had 
not  cleared  a pathway  through  the  dense  forests,  while 
in  the  central  j)ortion  of  this  productive  area  only  here 
and  there  were  occasional  settlements,  principally  emi- 
grants from  Virginia  and  Kentucky.  Where  now  are 
located  many  cities,  sustaining  factories,  mills  and 
varied  industries,  there  were  then  waving  prairies  un- 
disturbed by  the  ]»low  of  progress,  or  dense  forests  un- 
touched l»y  the  axe  of  civilization.  St.  Louis  was  then 
a cit,y  of  only  a few  thousand  inhabitants,  while  the 
present  site  of  Kansas  City  was  then  peopled  by  In- 
dians. St.  Paul  was  not  founded  until  one  year  later, 
and  New  Orleans,  at  the  extreme  southern  limit  of  this 
territory,  was  the  principal  city  contained  within  its 
approximate  borders.  Chicago,  now  the  second  city  of 
America,  had  just  received  its  first  charter. 

It  Avas  during  the  existence  of  such  conditions,  and 
in  such  environments,  that  James  Mickleborough 
< ireeiiAVO(»d  was  born,  November  15,  1837,  in  Sangamon 
Cotiuty,  Illinois — where  his  grandfather  had  moved 
from  ^J]'glnia  in  1824— in  the  heart  of  a vast  expanse 
of  rolling  prairie  that  Avas  then  being  reclaimed  from  a 
wilderness  by  y)ioneer  settlers.  The  Aullage,  Lick 
Creek,  noAV  Loami,  near  AA’hich  he  Avas  born,  in  the  next 


JAMES  M.  aREENWOOD. 


273 


sixty-two  years  attained  to  a population  not  exceeding 
a thousand  jjersons. 

The  life-stories  of  America’s  successful  men  are 
always  interesting  to  Americans  when  the  inceptions 
of  their  careers  are  attended  with  struggles  and  vicissi- 
tudes. The  recounting  of  these  stories  reminds  Amer- 
icans that  the  institutions  of  our  country  are  now  just 
as  liberal  in  their  overtures  of  success  to  ambitious 
young  men  as  they  have  been  in  the  past. 

J.  M.  Greenwood’s  early  life  was  spent  amid  the 
vicissitudes  of  pioneer  life,  but  it  was  indeed  fortunate 
for  the  youth  that  he  spent  his  boyhood  amid  such  con- 
ditions, for  there  the  spirit  of  self-reliance  was  culti- 
vated; there  he  lived  with  Nature,  deriving  the  many 
lessons  always  the  result  of  communion  with  her;  there 
he  came  to  know  the  difficulties  to  be  overcome  in  life, 
and  learned  that  each  time  he  met  and  overcame  them 
he  was  so  much  the  stronger  and  better  prepared  to 
battle  with  those  the  future  holds  in  store  for  all. 

The  elder  Greenwood  encountered  all  the  muta- 
tions common  to  denizens  of  the  period  and  place.  It 
is  related  that  until  he  was  twenty  years  old  he  had 
never  worn  mittens  or  gloves  of  any  sort.  Born  in  a 
log  cabin  in  Virginia  at  an  early  day,  he  Avas,  as  a 
baby,  “rocked  to  sleep  in  a sugar-trough”  for  a cradle, 
and  was  a playmate  of  Abrahtim  Lincoln,  the  vicissi- 
tudinous  story  of  the  youthful  experiences  of  both 
being  very  much  alike.  After  paying  for  his  marriage 


274 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


license,  and  upon  taking  an  inventory  of  liis  material 
possessions,  lie  found  that  they  aggregated  the  sum  of 
seventy-live  cents,  ilardly  had  he  gotten  well  on  the 
way  lo  a better  hnancial  condition  when  the  com- 
mercial panic  of  1837,  brought  about  by  the  wild  specu- 
lation in  \Vestern  lauds,  came  on,  and  the  effect  of  it  was 
everywhere  felt.  (Ireenwood,  like  others  of  the  vicin- 
age, expeiienced  keenly  the  period  of  financial  strin- 
gency, and  he  was  compelled  to  labor  hard  in  order  to 
provide  the  means  of  sustenance  for  his  family.  It  was 
in  this  year  that  James  M.  Greenwood  was  born,  and  in 
the  snbseiiuent  years  of  his  childhood  he  encountered 
the  hardships  peculiar  to  the  time  and  locality. 

Asa  child  he  was  precocious,  a desire  for  learning 
being  one  of  his  elements  of  character  early  manifested. 
The  first  money  he  ever  possessed  was  fifty  cents,  which 
amount  was  given  liim  by  his  parents  as  a compensa- 
tion for  taking  some  unpalatable  medicine  that  the 
doctor  had  prescribed  for  a rising  in  his  head.  His 
sickness  lasted  several  weeks,  and  during  which,  al- 
though but  six  years  old,  he  evidenced  a remarkable 
spirit  of  magnanimity  toward  his  brother  and  sister. 

“Father,"  said  he,  beckoning  his  parent  to  the  bed 
side,  “yon  take  these  bits  and  pickaynnes  when  you  go 
to  fhe  store  and  get  sister  a spelling-book,  Pate  a prim- 
er, and  me  a second  reader.”  His  father  bought  the 
books  and  distributed  them  as  James  had  specified. 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


275 


At  ten  years  of  age  he  entered  the  country  school, 
attending  until  he  was  sixteen  3'ears  of  age.  An  insati- 
al'le  desire  for  knowledge  characterized  his  school  life. 
As  soon  as  he  had  learned  to  read,  the  sn])plies  of  the 
School  and  neighborhood  were  exhausted,  regardless  of 
authors  or  subjects.  A fondness  for  mathematics  was 
early  manifested,  and  while  in  the  country  school  he 
worked  through  all  the  arithmetics  obtainable  in  the 
neighborhood.  Also,  before  he  had  been  in  school  two 
terms  he  could  spell  all  AVebster's  “Blue  Back.”  In 
order  that  his  studying  might  not  conflict  with  his 
farm  duties,  he  found  it  necessary  to  study  on  rainy 
days  and  Sundays  that  he  might  progress  as  a student. 
However,  despite  his  application  to  his  work,  James 
always  found  some  unoccupied  time,  which  was  invari- 
ably utilized  in  playing  unotfendiug  pranks  upon  his 
companions. 

The  many  stories  of  mischievous  boyhood  which 
are  interspersed  with  graver  and  more  important  data 
in  biographical  sketches  of  America's  foremost  men, 
aside  from  their  anecdotal  interest,  serve  to  show 
that  out  of  a boyhood,  teeming  Avith  innocent  fun, 
emerges  the  character  and  personality  which  in  later 
years  rank  higher,  under  a more  diguifled  cogno- 
men than  the  boy’s  nickname.  From  this  the  keen  ob- 
server might  deduce  a line  moral  and  trace  the  origin  of 
the  strength  of  such  a character  as  well  as  the  causes 


276 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


that  lead  it  to  develop  into  such  a different  aspect  in 
later  years. 

In  1852  his  father  moved  to  Adair  County,  Missouri, 
settling  near  the  present  site  of  Kirksville,  and  where 
he  still  lives. 

Like  Allan  Quartermain,  of  Haggard’s  creation, 
young  Greenwood  was  a “mighty  hunter'’  in  his  youth. 
His  boyhood  was  spent  in  Adair  County  during  the 
time  of  its  settlement  and  when  the  country  abounded 
in  deer  and  wild  turkeys.  His  early  playmates  assert 
that  it  was  no  unusual  occurrence  for  him  to  kill  three 
deer  in  one  day.  Dr.  Greenwood  himself  says  the  most 
thrilling  experience  of  his  life  was  the  first  time  his 
father  permitted  him  to  go  hunting  alone. 

“I  will  never  forget  the  first  time,”  said  Dr.  Green- 
wood, “that  father  let  me  take  his  rifle  and  go  into  the 
woods  to  hunt  deer.  The  rifle  was  a short  one,  the 
barrel  being  only  thirty-two  inches  long,  and  I had 
never  shot  a gun  more  than  a dozen  times  in  my  life. 
It  was  in  December,  and  I called  up  the  two  dogs  that 
morning  and  started  into  the  woods.  As  I went  along 
I began  to  think  of  all  the  tales  that  had  ever  been  told 
me  of  ‘bucks’  fighting  with  their  horns  when  wounded, 
and  particularly  the  admonition  of  ‘Uncle  George,’  an 
old  colored  man,  who  had  killed  many  deer  in  Kentucky 
and  Missouri,  who  said:  ‘I  tells  you,  chile,  neber  git 

close  to  a buck  tell  he  is  done  dead;  ef  you  do,  he  ’ll  jes 
turn  his  ha.ii“  all  backwards,  and  his  eyes  git  green,  an’ 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


he  ’ll  run  his  prongs  right  frn  you.’  I had  gone  about 
a mile  and  a half  when  I started  into  a bend  of  Salt 
Itiver;  it  was  nearly  a mile  around  on  Ihe  inside  of  the 
head,  forming  what  is  called  a horseshoe.  The  opening 
of  the  shoe,  where  I started  iu,  was  about  sixty  .yards 
across,  and  just  inside  was  a tree  that  had  been  blown 
down  during  the  summer,  and  the  leaves  had  dried  on 
the  branches  and  still  remained  there.  Out  of  this 
ti-eetop  bounded  a deer  and  the  two  dogs  took  after  it. 
The  trees  were  thick  and  there  was  a heav.y  nnder 
growth,  so  that  I got  only  a glimpse  of  the  deer.  I 
stationed  myself  about  midway  of  the  opening  b.y  a big 
tree,  with  the  gun  cocked  ready  to  shoot  as  the  deer 
would  rim  back  to  get  out  of  the  bend.  In  a minute  or 
1 wo  the  dogs  began  to  bark  furiously  at  the  farther  end 
of  ihe  bend,  and  1 thought  that  rather  than  run  on  the 
ice,  the  buck  had  turned  upon  the  dogs  and  was  fight- 
ing them,  and  that  my  situation  was  perilous,  indeed, 
should  he  whip  the  dogs.  More  furious  grew  the  bark- 
ing and  I hated  to  run,  but  I felt  moi  e like  running  than 
going  forward.  I looked  ahead  to  see  a tree  or  sapling 
lliat  I could  climb  quickly  in  case  of  extreme  peril.  I 
saw  a tree  that  would  afford  a means  of  escape.  So  I 
began  a series  of  forward  movements  from  one  tree  or 
sa]»ling  to  another,  ready  to  shoot  at  the  first  opportu- 
nity. The  baying  of  Ihe  dogs  never  ceased  for  a moment, 
and  theii-  position  did  not  appear  to  change.  This  gave 
a little  more  hope,  bui  no  more  courage.  By  a series  of 


278 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


diagonal  movements,  covering  about  two  hours,  it 
seemed  to  me,  I reached  a clnmj)  of  three  large  soft 
maples  that  branched  out  about  live  feet  from  the 
gi-ound,  and  I got  up  there  finally,  which  was  about 
lifly  yards  from  whei-e  tlie  dogs  were.  Here  I stood 
with  the  litle  in  my  hand,  trembling  and  scared,  await- 
ing developments.  Hut,  notwithstanding  the  position 
I now  occupied,  I could  nor  see  over  the  bank  where  Hie 
dogs  were,  but  1 could  hear  splashing  in  the  water. 
There  was  no  tree  or  sapling  between  me  and  the  dogs 
that  I could  climb,  should  the  buck  attack  me.  So  I 
decided  to  remain  where  1 was  till  one  side  or  the  other 
gave  uj).  I must  have  been  there  fully  a half-hour 
whim  I saw  a wet,  dirty  liltle  sheeji,  as  I thought,  drag 
itself  up  the  ojtposife  bank  and  strike  out  across  the 
jirairie  boltom  in  a very  slow,  weak  little  gallop.  The 
sheep  had  gone  itOO  or  400  yards  when  it  stuck  up  its 
muddy  tail,  and  then  it  Hashed  over  me  that  There  is 
till'  deer.’  ddie  dogs  puit  barking,  and  I now  felt  re- 
lieved and  boldly  went  to  the  bank.  The’  dogs  had 
chased  the  deer  so  closely,  and  in  order  to  escape  it 
had  run  in  on  the  ice,  which  slanted  down  on  each  side, 
leaving  an  open  current  of  water  in  the  middle  of  the 
si  ream.  The  deer  was  in  the  water,  which  did  not 
cover  it,  while  Ihe  dogs  were  on  the  ice  barking  at  it. 
Finally  it  had  scrambled  up  the  bank  and  started  otf. 

“A  few  weeks  later  I shot  my  first  deer,  and  many 
others  afterwards,  but  this  to  me  was  the  most  thrill- 


JAMES  J\[.  GREEyWOOD. 


279 


iiig  exj^erience  of  my  life.  The  old  neighbors,  where 
my  father  still  lives,  indulge  their  dry  humor  at  my 
expense  over  my  narrow  escajie.’’ 

The  authenticity  of  snake  stories  is  usually  dis- 
credited. but  this  incident,  in  which  Dr.  Greenwood 
ligured  conspicuously,  is  not  apociyphal:  One  spring 
day  when  he  was  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  James 
and  his  younger  brother  were  plowing  on  their  father’s 
farm.  AVhen  noon-time  came,  they  rode  their  horses  to 
a creek  near  by,  as  was  their  cust(mi,  to  allow  them  to 
drink.  As  James  rode  his  horse  into  the  stream,  he 
espied  about  liftywater  moccasin  snakes  sunning  thean- 
selves  on  a sand-bar  near  the  bank  and  on  the  other  side 
of  the  pool.  ATth  his  accustomed  fearlessness,  he 
spuj  red  his  hoise  on  until  he  was  alongside  the  small 
sand-bar,  and  then  jumped  into  the  midst  of  the  snakes. 
His  brother,  in  relating  the  subsequent  part  of  the  inci- 
dent, described  it  thus:  “Such  a squirming  and  wrig- 

gling among  snakes  I have  never  seen.  All  of  them 
tumbled  into  the  water  except  one  big  fellow,  who  fast- 
ened his  fangs  into  Mick’s  [Dr.  Greenwood’s]  blue  over- 
alls, and  such  jumping  and  cracking  of  heels  together  I 
never  before  witnessed  on  the  part  of  my  brother.  I 
verily  believe  that  Mick  cracked  his  heels  together  five 
limes  every  time  he  jumped  into  the  air  and  before  he 
landed  on  the  .sand-bar.  Finally  the  snake,  frightened 
at  such  phenomenal  actions,  I presume,  loosened  his 
hold  and  dropped  into  the  water.’’ 


280 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


It  is  needless  to  add  that  Dr.  Greenwood  has  not 
since  acted  in  the  rule  of  snake-charmer. 

Perhaps  Dr.  Greenwood  remembers  more  vividp 
than  anyone  else  the  day  of  Polk’s  election  to  the  presi- 
dency— it  was  the  day  he  '‘took  his  first  chew  of  tobac- 
co.” James  and  his  brother  had  re(|iiested  of  their 
father  permission  to  go  to  a near-by  village,  where  the 
election  was  being  lield.  The  retpiest  was  not  granted, 
and  so  the  younger  Greenwood  said  to  his  brother: 
“Never  mind,  Mick;  we’ll  go  to  father’s  tobacco- 
shed  and  get  some  ‘long  green’  to  cheyv.” 

’I'he  boys  immediately  went  to  the  shed  and  pro- 
cured the  tobacco,  after  which  they  went  to  a wagon 
bridge  near  by,  where  each  put  a large  amount  of  the 
narcotic  into  his  mouth,  and,  lying  down  upon  the 
bridge,  expectorat(>d  the  excretion  into  the  running 
.water. 

“Say,  Mick,”  said  the  younger  Greenwood,  “pa  will 
be  sorry  he  didn't  let  us  go  to  the  election,  won’t  he'.'”’ 
“Yes,  Pate,”  rcidied  “Mick,”  turning  deathly  pale; 
“I ’m  sorry  I didn’t  go  myself.”  - 

“Why,  what ’s  the  matter,  Mick?”  said  Pate,  noticii'g 
his  brother’s  uneasiness. 

“Oh,  I ’in  nearly  dead,”  replied  “Mick”  between 
groans.  “Everything  seems  in  a whirl  and  1 can’t  get 
up.  Oh,  I ’m  going  to  die — I know  it!” 

Thoroughly  alarmed,  Pate  ran  rapidly  to  the  house 
and  summoned  his  mother  and  other  ladies  who  were 
visiting  them. 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


281 


“Come  to  the  bridge,  quick,”  he  said.  “Mick’s 
dying.” 

When  the  party  reached  the  spot,  they  found  “Mick” 
apparently  in  the  most  excruciating  agony.  He  was 
carried  to  the  house,  and  it  was  several  hours  before  he 
recovered.  Dr.  Greenwood  never  attempted  the  prac- 
tice again  and  has  not  used  tobacco  in  any  form  since. 

One  day  during  his  youth  he,  in  company  with  a 
comy»anioJi,  went  to  a neighboring  town  to  dispose  of 
some  coon-skins — tlie  result  of  a winter’s  trapping, 
iiis  companion  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  the  posses- 
sor of  five  cents  which  his  mother  had  given  him,  in- 
styucting  him  to  sy)end  it  in  ymrchase  of  a spool  of 
thread. 

When  they  made  known  their  desire,  the  store-keep- 
er  rey)lied  that  they  did  not  have  the  commodity  in 
stock,  but  added,  “"We  have  souie  fine  apples,  though,” 
at  the  same  time  taking  numerous  fine  specimens  of 
the  fruit  out  of  the  barrel  and  displa;ydng  them  on  the 
counter. 

The  boys  immediately  began  to  fill  their  pockets, 
and,  witli  a ytolite  “thank  you,”  yiroceeded  to  walk  out  of 
the  store. 

“Hold  on,”  cried  the  storekeeper;  “you  don’t  get 
them  for  nothing.” 

“M'hy  did  you  offer  them  to  us,  then?’’  retorted  the 
youthful  Greenwood,  with  a mischievous  twinkle  in  his 
eyes.  “We  thought  you  were  giving  them  to  us,  as  we 


282 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


didn’t  ask  you  for  tlieui  and  you  didn’t  say  anything 
about  the  ]U'ice.” 

Tlie  merchant  was  at  first  angry,  but  finally  became 
so  amused  at  the  humor  of  the  situation  that  he  told 
the  boys  to  k(*ep  the  apples,  as  they  well  deserved  them. 

James  M.  Greenwood's  father  became  postmaster  at 
Timbered  Ib  anch,  now  Brashear,  soon  after  he  came  to 
Missouri,  and,  in  addition  to  the  performance  of  this 
duty,  he  cultivated  a small  farm.  Ilis  son’s  stay  there 
was  alternately  spent  in  assisting  his  father  on  the 
farm,  in  studying,  and  in  hunting.  Educational  advan- 
tages in  that  section  of  Missouri  were  then  extremely 
limited.  The  nearest  school  being  situated  seven  miles 
distant,  he  was  compelled  to  pursue  his  studies  at  home 
b,v  studying  on  evenings  and  rainy  days,  and,  unaided, 
he  mastered  Latin,  algebi-a,  geometry',  and  a work  on 
trigonometry  and  surveying. 

In  those  days  the  settlers  were  so  much  engrossed  in 
adai»ting  their  farms  for  cultivation  that  little  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  educational  matters.  The  family 
library  comprised  only  the  Bible,  a few  standard  works, 
such  as  “Pilgrim’s  Progress,”  “Scottish  Chiefs,”  “Rob- 
inson Crusoe,”  and  so  forth,  while  text-books,  aside 
from  those  included  in  the  limited  curriculum  of  the 
pioneer  school,  were  scarcely  to  be  found. 

Greenwood,  having  exhausted  the  limited  supply  of 
books  to  be  found  in  the  community,  was  disconcerted 
about  the  prospects  of  securing  other  volumes,  but 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


283 


aboul  this  time  a man  of  considerable  learning  died  not 
far  from  the  youth's  home.  This  indi^  idnal  had  been 
tlie  possessor  of  a number  of  text-books  and  works  on 
general  topics,  so  (Ireenwood  determined  to  secure  at 
least  a portion  of  the  deceased  man’s  library.  With 
the  proceeds  from  a calf  whi(di  he  had  sold,  he  pur- 
chased several  volumes,  comprising  A^irgil,  Stoddard  s 
Latin  Grammar,  Salkeld’s  hirst  Spanish  Book,  But- 
ler’s Analogy,  Olinstead’s  Bhilnsophy,  and  Davies’  Ele- 
mentary Algebra,  Geometry,  and  Surveying.  L^uaided 
he  j»ored  over  these  volumes,  mastering  the  mathemat- 
ics with  ease  and  obtaining  more  than  an  ordinary 
knowledge  of  the  Latin  and  S[)anish  languages.  In  th  ■ 
philoso})hical  studies  he  became  especially  proticient. 
In  the  work  on  algebra  he  solved  every  problem,  de- 
sp’ite  that  he  had  never  seen  that  text-book  until  h ^ 
bought  one,  as  told. 


<• 


CHAPTER  II. 


BEGINS  ms  LIFE-WORK.— EARLY  SCHOOL- 
TEACHING.— SERVES  IN  UNION  ARMY. 

—TEACHES  AT  HUNTSVILLE 
AND  KTRKSVILLE. 

Greenwood’s  removal  to  Missouri,  in  18.52,  was  at 
an  opportune  time.  Tlie  State  was  then  beginning  to 
rapidly  develop  both  in  commercial  and  educational 
ways.  The  commonwealth  then  had  but  a population 
of  685,000;  the  construction  of  the  Missouri  Pacific 
Railroad  from  St.  Louis  to  the  western  border  of  the 
Slate  was  in  progress.  At  the  same  time  the  construc- 
tion of  the  St.  Louis  A San  Francisco,  -the  Hannibal 
& St.  Joseph,  the  Wabash,  and  the  Iron  Mountain 
railroads  was  projected.  The  State  was  just  turning 
its  attention  in  a concerted  way  towards  the  betterment 
of  its  school  system.  Tliat  Dr.  Greenwood’s  progress 
in  his  profession  has  been  Commensurate  with  his 
adoi»ted  State’s  the  perusal  of  the  story  of  his  life  will 
substantiate. 

The  country  school  has  always  been  a sort  of  train- 
ing-place for  men  who  have  taken  up  the  work  of  a 
rural  teacher  in  order  to  fit  themselves  for  other  work 
and  to  secure  finances  for  the  pursuance  of  study  for 
other  professions.  Out  of  the  pioneer  district  schools 


JAMES  M.  aREENWOOD. 


285 


have  emanated  maiiT  of  the  leaders  of  the  world’s  prog- 
ress in  thought,  speech,  and  action.  Excepting  Mark 
Twain,  all  the  subjects  of  these  sketches  were,  at  early 
stages  of  their  life,  teachers  in  obscure  schools. 

Dr.  Greenwood  is  the  only  one  of  this  number  who 
continued  in  the  profession,  the  remainder  adopting 
other  vocations.  His  desire  to  become  a teacher  was 
early  evinced,  and  although  he  later  spent  some  time  in 
the  study  of  law,  he  soon  abandoned  the  project,  for  his 
predilection  for  teaching  again  asserted  itself.  His 
reason  for  discontinuing  the  study  of  law  was,  to  use 
his  own  words,  “Xot  being  suited  for  the  profession,  I 
found  it  to  be  a splendid  opportunity  for  starving  to 
death,  and  for  that  reason  quit.” 

His  first  school  was  taught  in  Adair  County,  Mis 
souri,  when  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age.  Because  of  his 
youthful  appearance,  some  of  the  older  pupils  evinced 
a disposition  to  disobey  the  rules  of  the  young  peda- 
gogue, and  thought  that  Greenwood  would  be  incapable 
of  managing  them.  But  in  This  they  were  soon  unde- 
ceived, for  they  soon  learned  that  their  teacher  was  not 
lacking  in  the  qualities  that  constitute  a good  disciplin- 
arian. Xo  particular  event  or  feature  of  his  early 
teaching  characterized  this  period,  save  that  his  schools 
were  well  conducted  and  his  patrons  considered  him  an 
efficient  instructor. 

lintil  he  was  sixteen  years  old.  Greenwood  had  at- 
tended school  only  six  seasons.  From  the  time  he  was 


286 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


sixteen  until  he  was  twenty  the  youth  was  in  attendance 
at  school  only  twenty-five  days,  hut  in  the  meanwhile  he 
had  been  absorbed  in  study  at  home,  when  books  were 
procurable. 

In  1857,  he  entered  the  Methodist  Seminary  at  Can- 
ton, Missouri,  where  he  left  a most  brilliant  record. 
This  institution  was  at  that  time  one  of  the  strongest 
in  northeastern  Missouri. 

Greenwood  was  undemonstrative  in  his  dress  and 
demeanor,  and  vhen  as  an  unsophisticated  country 
youth  he  entei-ed  the  school,  some  of  his  fellow-students 
were  disposed  to  excite  fun  at  his  rustic  appearance. 
Nothing  daunted,  he  ignored  their  effrontery  and  quick- 
ly forced  a change  in  their  attitude  and  opinions,  for 
they  soon  realized  and  appreciated  his  ability  and  clear 
intellect,  which  w'ere  always  shown  in  the  class-rojin 
and  elsewhere. 

A friend  and  schoolmate  said  of  him:  “Dr.  Green- 

wood devouily  loved  two  things — fun  and  niatht'- 
matics.”  Anent  the  former  predilection  an  incident 
connected  with  his  school  life  in  Canton  is  related; 
Greenwood  had  attached  a piece  of  paper  to  the  back  of 
a schoolmafe’s  coat,  with  some  humorous  phrase  writ- 
teen  thereon.  This  afforded  much  amusement  for  the 
students,  but  the  butt  of  the  joke  failed  to  appreciate 
the  situation,  and,  turning  to  those  who  were  laughing, 
very  vehemently  said,  “I  ’ll  thrash  the  fellow  to  an  inch 
of  his  life  who  did  this.”  Greenwood,  with  an  amused 


JAMES  M.  aREENWOOD. 


287 


twinkle  and  fearless  expression  in  his  eyes,  arose  and 
replied  to  the  challenge:  “Very  well,  sir;  I’m  the 

man;  come  on.”  When  his  wonld-be  assailant  surveyed 
young  Greenwood’s  splendid  physique,  he  very  wisely 
declined  to  accept  the  challenge,  saying,  “All  right,  but 
not  to-day.” 

One  day  during  the  recitation  period  he  rose  to 
answer  some  question  propounded  by  the  preceptor.  It 
so  chanced  that  Greenwood  had  been  sitting  under  the 
stairs  that  led  to  an  upper  room  and  in  arising  his  head 
came  in  violent  contact  with  the  slanting  wall.  Of 
course  the  entire  assemblage  laughed,  and,  much  dis 
concerted,  the  subject  of  their  amusement  sat  down. 
That  night  he  resolved  to  get  revenge  upon  his  mirth- 
ful associates  by  so  thoroughly  learning  his  lesson  for 
the  morrow  that  they  would  no  longer  scoff  at  him,  and 
he  did.  The  next  day  at  the  recitation  he  gave  a cor- 
rect response  to  every  question  asked  him,  and  to-day 
he  is  familiar  with  nearly  the  entire  contents  of  the  text- 
book— Sillimau's  Chemistry. 

His  former  classmates,  many  of  whom  live  in  north- 
ern Missouri,  aver  that  his  record  at  the  Seminary  was 
without  a parallel  in  the  history  of  the  institution. 
Certainly  few,  if  any,  have  equalled  it,  for,  had  his 
health  not  failed  a short  time  before  the  close  of  the 
term,  he  would  have  been  graduated  after  having  com- 
pleted a four-years  course  in  the  short  period  of  nine 
moutlis.  He  discontinued  his  studies  at  the  school  in 
—19— 


288 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Api  il,  1S5S,  and,  although  not  receiving  a degree  from 
lh(*  inslilnlion,  lie  ja  actically  completed  the  course,  and 
successfully  passed  examinations  in  twenty  dilTerent 
hraiiehes,  including  lln*  common  branches. 

hil(‘  at  the  Methodist  Seminaiy  he  was  appointed 
to  invite  Smiator  daim's  Ste]dien  (treeii,  then  in  the 
zmiitli  of  his  career,  to  address  tin*  literary  society  of 
which  (ireemwood  was  a member.  Senator  Green  was 
so  favorably  imjii-essed  with  the  young  student  that  he 
said  to  him:  ‘'Young  man,  I will  do  so  with  pleasui'o, 
and  shall  be  glad  to  aid  you  in  any  way  in  the  future,  if 
it  be  possible."  The  Senator  ]>res(*nted  Greenwood  with 
the  current  issue  of  the  Smithsoniau  rei»orts,  which  was 
the  nucleus  of  a voluminous  scientitic  library  that  he 
now  ])ossess(‘s. 

^^'hen  (treenwood  hd't  the  Seminary,  he  completed 
his  career  as  a student  in  school,  having  attended  places 
of  instruction  but  seven  years. 

^Vfter  leaving  the  Seminary,  Dr.  Greenwood  siieni 
several  years  on  his  father's  farm, and  while  living  there 
he  was  mari'ied,  November  1,  ISoh,  to  Miss  Amanda 
McDaniel,  who  at  that  time  was  a teacher  in  Kirksville. 

On  July  4th  of  that  year  he  delivered  a speech. at  a 
local  celebration  and  for  several  years  annually  spoke 
on  these  occasions.  Ills  speeches  were  always  jiatriotic 
in  character,  and  in  this  connection  it  might  be  added 
that  he  has  never  made  a political  s]»eech  of  any  sort. 

In  18ti2  he  enlisted  in  the  Missouri  militia,  serving 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


289 


until  December  10,  1804,  when  he  was  mustered  out. 

Greenwood,  while  a member  of  the  militia,  chanced 
to  read  a copy  of  the  Safiirdai/  Evening  Post,  which  at 
that  time  was  conducting  a column  of  matheniatica] 
problems.  The  leading  mathematicians  of  America 
and  Europe  were  contributors  to  the  department,  either 
sending  in  propositions  or  solutions  of  those  previously 
published.  One  of  the  }>ropositions  in  the  issue  Green- 
wood secured,  read:  “If  a cube  be  thrown  in  the  air, 

and  a musket  ball  be  hi-ed  at  it,  what  is  the  chance  that 
the  ball  will  pass  through  opjiosite  faces?”  Solutions 
were  sent  in  by  the  leading  mathematicians  of  the 
Enited  States  and  Europe.  Prof,  ll'oolhouse,  head  of 
the  department  of  mathematics  in  the  Koyal  Military 
Arademy  of  England,  was  the  author  of  the  problem, 
and,  as  Greenwood's  jirocess  of  solving  the  problem 
was  the  simpler,  his  exidanation  was  awarded  }uec(‘- 
dence.  This  incident  is  made  tlie  more  remarkable 
when  it  is  remend)ered  that  the  young  mathematician, 
excepting  one  year  in  college,  had  puisued  his  studies 
along  that  line  unaided  and  at  his  home.  The  award- 
ing of  the  honors  in  the  contest  to  this  young  man, 
whose  reputation  was  only  ])rovincial,  excited  interesi 
in  his  personality  on  the  part  of  prominent  American 
educators,  and  he  received  letters  of  congratulation  and 
impiiry  from  all  over  the  United  States. 

Among  his  comrades  in  the  Civil  War  was  a resident 
of  Lima,  Illinois,  who  wrote  to  Greenwood  stating  that 


290 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI AFS. 


a teacher  was  soon  to  be  elected  to  teach  a school  in  a 
district  adjacent  to  the  village,  and  urged  him  to  apply, 
lie  re[)lied  that  he  had  never  formally  applied  for  a 
scliool,  and  never  would,  but  if  the  directors  decided  to 
consider  his  name,  it  would  be  satisfactory  to  him. 
Upon  the  recommendation  of  his  friend,  the  directors 
wrote  to  Greenwood  asking  him  to  come  to  Lima,  as 
they  desired  to  make  his  acquaintance. 

Greenwood  went  to  Lima,  where  he  met  two  of  the 
directors  in  the  village  drug  store,  the  other  one  irot 
being  in  town  at  the  time.  It  so  happened  that  these 
two  were  Dennwrats,  while  the  absentee  was  a Repub- 
lican. The  two  of  similar  political  belief  escorted  the 
teacher  to  the  rear  of  the  store;  then  the  spokesman 
said,  “What ’s  your  ]»olitics?”  Whereupon  Greenwood 
re])lied,  “None  of  your  business.”  Before  the  astounded 
directoi's  could  comment  upon  this  fearless  and  unusual 
declaration,  the  young  teacher  continued : “If  you  want 
pnlitics  taught  in  your  school,  you  will  be  compelled  to 
look  about  for  another  teacher,  for  I hn  too  good  a 
patriot  to  be  a partisan  and  too  good  a Christian  to  be  a 
sectarian.” 

'When  the  other  director  arrived,  the  two  who  had 
interrogated  Greenwood  told  him  of  the  teacher’s  reply. 
After  a short  consultation,  they  decided  to  employ 
Greenwood  as  teacher  of  the  school. 

One  warm  day  in  August  he  went  to  Quincy  to  be 
examined  for  a certificate  by  the  school  commissioner 


JAMES  M.  GltEENWOOD. 


291 


of  Adams  Coimty,  Illinois.  The  commissioner  went 
with  him  to  his  oflice,  where  he  wrote  the  required  ques- 
tions upon  a black-board,  and  said  that  the  examinee 
might  have  three  hours  in  which  to  complete  the  re- 
(piired  examination. 

Greenwood  said  to  him:  '‘Can  you  come  back  here 

in  twenG’  minutes'?” 

“Why  do  you  wish  me  to  come  back  at  the  expiration 
of  that  time?”  asked  the  commissioner. 

“Well,  sir,”  said  Greenwood,  “I  can  answer  those 
(piestions  in  that  time,  and  I would  like  to  know 
whether  I have  successfnll}-  passed  the  examination,  as 
1 am  in  a hnii-y  to  go  back  to  Lima.” 

“I  cannot  come  back  at  that  time,  for  I will  be  busy 
nearly  all  the  afternoon,”  replied  the  commissioner. 

“Then  give  me  an  oral  examination.  I can  answer 
the  questions  quickly,”  Greenwood  said  with  assurance. 

The  examiner  consented,  and  began  to  ask  him  nu- 
merous questions,  all  of  which  the  candidate  answered 
satisfactorily.  Then  the  commissioner  requested  him 
to  give  all  the  sounds  of  the  letter  a.  Greenwood 
gaA'e  them  so  quickly  and  in  such  a loud  tone  that  the 
examiner  said:  “That  will  do;  you  are  entitled  to  a cer- 
tiftcate,  and  a first  grade  at  that.  It  will  be  the  first 
one  of  that  class  that  has  been  issued  in  this  county.” 

When  he  was  employed  to  teach  this  school,  the 
board  of  directors  was  somewhat  perplexed  over  the 
situation  in  the  district.  One  of  the  directors  has  since 


292 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


said  that  it  was  with  luuch  misgiving  that  Greenwood 
was  em])loved.  This,  however,  was  soon  disj>elled,  for 
no  teacher  there  had  won  half  the  success  Greenwood 
achieved.  The  secret  of  his  success  is  said  to  have  been 
liis  exceptional  discernment' of  liuman  nature,  and  espe- 
cially his  peculiar  capacity  for  winning  the  friendship 
and  confidence  of  his  scholars. 

This  was  in  18G:>-4.  As  soon  as  his  school  was  com- 
pleted, he  reenlisted  in  the  Union  Army,  April,  18(14, 
and  was  in  service  until  the  tenth  of  December,  18(i-l, 
when  he  was  again  mustered  out. 

Ileturniug  to  his  Adair  County  home,  he  was  em- 
I)loyed  to  teach  a three-months  term  of  school  near  his 
home.  Shortly  after  the  school  term  began,  the  presi- 
dent of  the  board  of  education  went  to  Quincy,  Illinois, 
where  he  .contracted  the  small-pox.  His  return  home 
excited  the  community,  and,  fearing  that  the  continu- 
ance of  the  school  might  propagate  the  disease,  the 
directors  deemed  it  best  to  close  the  school  after  six 
weeks’  session. 

He  then  went  to  Kirksville,  where  he  obtained  em- 
]iloyment  in  the  ottice  of  the  circuit  clerk  of  Adair 
County;  Init  the  court-house  burned  on  the  day  of  Lee's 
sm-render.  Returning  to  his  father's  home,  he  worked 
all  the  summer  on  the  farm. 

In  August,  1 805,  tlie  directors  of  the  school  at  Lima 
^^'rote  to  him  that  they  desired  him  to  again  conduct 
their  school.  He  accepted  their  olTer,  teaching  one  sea- 


■LUfES  OnEEXJVOOD. 


293 


son  with  as  muoh  success  as  he  had  conducted  their 
scho(d  two  years  before. 

His  next  school  was  tauf^ht  in  Knox  County  in  186G. 
beginning  in  September,  at  the  completion  of  which  he 
again  went  to  his  father’s  farm,  where  he  lived  until 
September,  1 807. 

In  September,  1807,  Dr.  Joseph  Baldwin,  an  edu- 
cator, who  probably  did  more  for  the  cause  of  poi>ular 
education  than  any  other  man  in  the  State  during  his 
fourteen  years  of  residence  in  Missouri,  opened  a private 
normal  school  at  Kirksville,  Missouri,  having  associated 
with  him  James  ^1.  Greenwood,  ^Irs.  Amanda  A.  Green- 
wood, W.  I’.  Nason,  Frank  L.  Ferris,  and  !Mis.  Kate 
h\u-ris. 

The  story  of  how  Dr.  and  ^Irs.  Greenwood  became 
connected  wdlli  the  institution  is  uni({ue.  One  day  dur- 
ing the  summer  preceding  the  opening  of  the  school,  Dr. 
Baldwin  went  out  to  the  Greenwood  homestead  intend- 
ing to  purchase  a cow.  As  a result  of  this  common- 
place incident.  Dr.  Greenwood  and  his  wife  became 
teachers  in  the  school.  Baldwin  and  Greenwood  con- 
versed for  some  time  after  the  trade  relating  to  the  cow 
had  been  made,  and  the  former  said  to  Greenwood: 
“Mr.  Greenwood,  how  would  you  like  to  teach  next 
season  in  the  Normal’?” 

“I  don’t  know,  but  I think  perhaps  1 would  like  to 
do  so,”  answered  Greenwood. 


294 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


“Well,  with  your  permission,  I will  recommend  yon 
lo  the  hoard  of  regents,"’  Dr.  Baldwin  said. 

Dr.  (treenwood  cons<mted  to  this  proposition,  and 
the  board  of  regents,  acting  upon  1‘resident  Baldwin's 
suggestion,  tendered  him  Ihe  chair  of  mathematics  and 
logic,  which  he  successfully  held  for  six  years.  Bald- 
win also  recommended  Mrs.  Greenwood  as  itrincipal  of 
the  model  training  department  of  the  school,  to  which 
jMtsition  she  was  elected. 

As  teacher  of  mathematics  in  this  institution  over  a 
(puu'ter  of. a century  ago  he  lu'came  recognized  through- 
out  Missouri  and  other  States  as  an  unusually  able 
mathematician.  Throughout  Missouri  are  many  teach- 
(‘I's  of  mathematical  science  who  were  pupils  of  James 
M.  Greenwood  in  this  school. 

About  this  lime  the  first  teachers’  institute  was  held 
in  northeaslern  Missouri.  The  statement  sometimes 
made  that  Mi‘.  Greenwood  is  the  originator  of  the  teach- 
ers' institute  in  Missouri  is  en’oneons. 

In  Adair  County,  Janies  M.  Greenwood,  Rev.  W.  B. 
Nason,  and  Rev.  Daniel  Kinter  conceived  the  idea  of 
holding  an  institute  for  the  general  improvement  of 
teachers  in  northeastern  Missouri.  Accordingly  they 
rented  a hall  in  Kirksville  one  summer  mouth  and  an- 
nounced a forthcoming  “teachers’  institute,”  hut  the 
teachers  of  the  county  were  chary  and  paid  but  little 
h(‘ed  to  the  innovative  iirocedure  in  their  midst.  How- 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


295 


ever,  not  disconcerted,  Greenwood,  Nason,  and  Kinter 
met,  selected  topics,  and  proceeded  to  hold  an  institute, 
ignoring  the  situation  that  they  were  alone  in  their 
etl'orts.  Dar'  after  day  they  met,  determined  to  make 
the  institute  a success  despite  the  lack  of  attendance 
and  absence  of  enthusiasm  from  their  fellow-teachers. 
Curiosity  brought  a few  to  the  hall  where  the  three  en- 
tlmsiasts  were  conducting  a teachers'  institute  with  as 
much  assurance  as  if  the  hall  were  tilled  with  attentive 
hundreds. 

Without  application,  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Greenwood  were 
made  members  of  the  faculty  of  Mount  Pleasant  Col- 
lege, at  ITuntsville,  Missouri.  Mr.  Greenwood  taught 
mathematics,  logic,  rhetoric,  and  reading,  while  his  wife 
instructed  in  botany,  history,  and  primary  work.  They 
taught  in  this  college  six  months,  at  the  end  of  which 
time  both  resigned,  in  order  that  Mr.  (treenwood  might 
accept  the  chair  of  mathematics  in  Kirksville  Normal, 
which  had  been  tendered  him. 

Two  and  a half  years  after  the  establishment  of  the 
Kirksville  Normal  it  was  adopted  as  the  first  State 
normal  school  of  I\Iissouri.  The  board  of  regents  of- 
fered Greenwood  the  presidency  of  the  school,  which 
he  declined,  giving  as  his  reason:  ‘‘Dr.  Baldwin  estab- 

lished the  school;  has  labored  hard  to  sustain  and  pro- 
mote it;  is  a competent  and  efficient  educator,  and 
should  be  retained  as  its  president.”  The  regents  re- 


296 


FIVE  FAA^)ES  MI880ERIAN8. 


taiiied  Baldwin  as  president  and  Greenwood  became 
teaclier  of  matlieniatics  in  the  school. 

About  this  time  l>r.  (ireenwood  began  contributing 
to  mathematical  journals  of  the  United  States,  which  he 
rontiniied  to  do  until  recent  years.  ‘ 


CHAPTER  III. 


ELECTED  SEPEKIXTEXDEXT  OF  KANSAS  CITY 
J’TDU.K ' SCHOOLS.— A QUAKTEK  CENT- 
ER ^VORK.— ELECTED  TO  OF- 

FICES IN  EDUCATIONAL 
ORGANIZATIONS. 

Two  facts  pertain  to  two  of  these  famous  Missouri- 
ans that  are  not  usually  peculiar  to  the  careers  of  such 
men:  Richard  Parks  Rlaiid  never  had  made  nor  owned 

a cut  of  himself,  while  Di-.  tireeiiwood  never  in  all  his 
career  aj)plied  for  the  juiucipalshi])  or  superiuteudeucy 
of  a school. 

Many  public  men,  at  least  in  the  inception  of  their 
careers,  have  at  their  disposition  a number  of  cuts  to  as- 
sist news])apers  in  advocating  their  interests, and  school 
teachers  are  usually  accustomed  to  make  applications 
for  positions,  but  in  these  men  there  have  ever  been 
exce]jtions  to  the  customs. 

In  June,  1874,  J.  V.  C.  Karnes,  who  was  at  that  time 
treasurer  of  the  Board  of  Education  of  Kansas  City, 
wrote  Dr.  Greemvond,  statin^-  that  there  would  soon  be 
a vacancy  in  the  office  of  superintendent  of  the  Kansas 
City  public  schools,  and  urged  Dr.  Greenwood  to  make 
apjdication  for  the  office.  His  friends  urged  him  to 
rejjly,  but  he  at  first  refused' to  do  so,  saying  that  he 


298 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MIESOVRIANE. 


had  l^eeii  elected  for  two  years  at  Kirksville,  and,  more- 
over, that  a number  of  the  applicants  for  the  superin- 
tejidency  were  personal  friends  of  his  and  he  disliked  to 
contest  with  them  tor  the  office. 

Kventually,  however.  Greenwood  was  induced  by  his 
friends  to  go  to  Kansas  City.  Karnes  wanted  to  intro- 
duce him  to  the  directors  and  asked  him  to  apply  for  the 
superintendency,  but  he  replied:  “1  have  never  made 

formal  ap])lication  for  a school  and  I do  not  care  to 
now.  If  the  board  elects  me,  then  I will  serve,  but  1 
will  not  apj)ly  for  the  position.”  After  a stay  of  a day 
or  two  in  Kansas  City,  Greenwood  returned  to  Kirks- 
ville, where  he  found  a telegram  awaiting  him,  an- 
nouncing that  he  had  been  selected  superintendent. 

His  election  was  a recognition  of  Mr.  Greenwood’s 
reputation  aud  ability  as  an  educator,  for  among  the 
sixteen  applicants  for  the  superintendency  at  Kansas 
City,  there  were  many  men  who  were  eminent  in  west- 
ern educational  affairs. 

Kansas  City,  now  a city  with  an  estimated  popula- 
liou  of  225,(100,  then  conlained  but  28,000  people.  Her 
schools  'were  just  beginning  to  grow-  in  a manner  com 
meusurate  with  the  city’s  development.  Hitherto 
there  had  been  discordant  elements  within  and  without 
the  schools  of  Kansas  <Mty,  but  Greenwood’s  coming 
disi)elled  them.  l‘>y  keen  insight’  into  (he  difficulties 
and  by  cai'eful  management,  he  soon  succeeded  in  har- 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


299 


mnnizing  these  elements,  which  liave,  because  of  his 
prudence  and  tact,  remained  ever  since  in  harmony. 

Perhai>s  no  better  estimate  of  a superintendent’s 
policy  and  ideals  can  be  secured  than  from  his  annual 
report.  In  his  lirst  auiinal  report  for  the  year  ending 
June  IS,  1875,  submitted  to  the  Board  of  Education,  he 
said,  among  other  things: 

“The  most  important  and  resijonsilde  duty  the  board 
is  i-equired  to  perform  is  the  selection  of  competent 
teachers.  The  best  talent  salary  will  command  should 
be  eni])loyed.  It  is  a peremptory  duty  to  the  children 
and  also  to  the  public  to  secure  the  services  of  well- 
(pialified,  skillful,  and  judicious  teachers.  Xo  system 
of  schools  having  incompetent  teachers  can  achieve  real 
success.  As  the  teacher  is  so  will  the  school  be — the 
stream  never  rising  above  its  fountain. 

“Tu  an  economic  point  of  view,  the  poor  teacher  is 
dear  at  any  price.  It  is  not  only  a reckless  waste  of 
money  to  cmjdoy  such,  but  the  positive  injury  inflicted 
uiK)n  the  children  can  not  be  estimated  in  dollars  and 
cents. 

“At  times,  it  re<|uires  all  the  heroism  of  a martyr  for 
members  of  a school  board  to  say  Xo!  when  besieged  by 
a]ij)licants  for  positions. 

“Rather  than  employ  incompetent  teachers,  it  would 
be  far  better  to  make  charitable  donations  to  such  and 
then  advise  them  to  follow  some  other  vocation. 


300 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MIS80V1UAF8. 


“Managing?  and  teaching  require  tact  and  skill;  tact 
in  management  and  skill  in  imparting  instruction.  The 
teacher  must  know  ivlial  to  do,  and  //cm;  to  do.  Novices 
and  experimenters  should  practice  npon  other  material 
than  mere  school-children. 

“Teachers  learn  how  to  tea/di  either  in  a regular 
training  school,  or  after  years  of  experience  in  the 
school-room. 

“To  ennmerate  the  essential  (lualifications  of  the 
successful  teacher  w’ould  exceed  the  limits  of  this  arti 
cle;  hut  among  other  considerations  the  following  are 
perha])s  lueeminent ; 

“1,  commoii  sense;  2,  ability  to  manage  and  to  har- 
monize confiicting  interests;  3,  adaptability  to  school 
room  work ; 4,  a good  knowledge  of  what  education 
means  and  what  it  is;  5,  knowledge  of  the  branches  to 
be  taught;  0,  skill  and  ingenuity  in  ini])arting  instruc- 
tion; 7,  a deep  and  abiding  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the 
(diildren;  8.  a culti-yated  v(»ice  and  manner  ; 9,  a love  for 
the  work.” 

Greenwood’s  second  yeai-  at  Kansas  City,  1875-6, 
witnessed  a prosperous  condition  of  the  schools.  A 
net  gain  of  255  in  average  daily  attendance  was  made 
over  the  preceding  year.  The  per  cent  of  attendance 
was  92.00,  while  in  1874-5  it  was  91.85.  One  of  the  most 
important  lessons  tauglit  in  the  schools  was  that  of 
punctuality,  which  Greenwood  said  was  “certainly  akin 
to  the  cardinal  virtues.” 


JAMES  M.  aREENWOOD. 


301 


111  his  second  aiiiiiial  i-e]»oit,  Dr.  Greenwood  had  to 
say  about  corporal  pnnishmeiit:  “Last  year  I ^aye 

iniicli  patient  thought  to  the  subject  of  corporal  punish- 
menf;  not  with  the  ayowed  purpose  of  excluding  it  en- 
tirely from  our  schools,  because  such  action  would,  iu 
ni_v  opinion,  haye  been  injudicious  and  siibyersiye  to  the 
ends  sought  to  be  accouijilished;  but  to  regulate  its  ad- 
ministration in  such  a manner  as  to  make  it  beneficial, 
if  jmssible,  wheneyer  it  should  be  inflicted.  Careful  in- 
yestigation  and  practical  experience  conyince  me  that 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  in  which  corporal  punishment 
(Ayhippingl  is  inflicted,  that  either  the  parent  or  teacher 
ought  to  be  whijtped  instead  of  the  child.  ■ This  is  n 
harsh  sentence,  yet  it  is  true."’ 

Greenwood’s  second  year  was  eminently  a sm'cessfiil 
one.  Decided  improyement  in  teaching  manj  branches 
was  made:  reading  was  better  taught;  geography  was 
taught  in  an  attractive  manner  not  hitherto  employed; 
penmanshi])  had  just  begun  to  be  instructed  upon  a 
scientific  basis,  while  drawing  had  been  introduced  and 
jiroved  to  be  a most  im]iortant  factor  in  cultiyafing  the 
hand,  the  eye,  and  the  imagination.  A teachers'  insti- 
tute met  regularly  on  the  last  Saturday  of  each  school 
month  in  the  High  School  building.  Class  recitations. 
(liscii)line. management,  teachers'  (pialiftcations.and  the 
interjiretation  of  the  principles  of  education  were  pre- 
sented and  discussed  in  their  several  relations  to  public 
schools,  which  proved  to  be  of  much  benefit  to  the  corps 


302 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


of  toachers.  The  institute  was  an  effective  agency  for 
connminicating  tlie  superintendent’s  plans  of  instruc- 
tion and  of  discipline  to  the  teachers,  simplifying  the 
management  of  the  schools  and  moving  every  depart- 
TiK'nt  with  harmony  and  ])recision. 

In  1870,  Dr.  Greenwood  was  elected  President  of 
the  ^lissouri  State  Teachers'  Association,  serving  as  its 
chief  officer  for  one  year. 

The  school  year  1870-77  placed  the  Kansas  City 
scliool  system  upou  a higher  plane.  Superinteudeut 
Gi'eenwood  once  said,  in  one  of  his  reports:  “Low  ideals 
]uw)dnce  poor  schools,  and  just  in  j)roportion  as  the 
tf'acher's  notion  of  what  good  teaching  is  will  the  school 
im])i'ove  or  degenerate  in  quality.  The  only  motto  we 
Imve  is  to  gather  in  the  best  there  is  in  teaching  in  the 
whole  country,  and  use  it  in  our  schools.”  He  con- 
stantly urged  the  elevation  of  the  scholarship  of  teach- 
ers employed  in  Kansas  City.  “There  is  but  one  way  to 
keep  the  schools  up  to  the  standard  of  excellence  they 
have  already  obtained,  and  that  is  to  employ  teachers 
competent  to  do  the  work.  * * * * Ex-Governor 

Hardin  was  fullj'  impressed  with  the  importance  of  the 
teacher's  position  when  he  said  it  required  more  skill 
and  judgment  to  manage  propei  ly  all  of  the  interests  of 
a large  school  than  to  govern  the  State  of  Missouri. 
While  this  may  be  a strong  figure  of  speech,  it  never- 
theless contains  a great  deal  of  truth.”  He  urged  the 
teachers  to  read  educational  works;  to  be  diligent  in- 


JAMEii  M.  ah'EEXWOOD. 


303 


tei'preters  of  mental  phenomena;  and  to  familiarize 
themselves  with  the  best  that  there  is  in  progressive 
education. 

From  a small  beginning  in  the  fall  of  1867,  the  pub- 
lic schools  of  Kansas  City  grew  in  prosperity  and  use- 
fulness until  the  close  of  the  school  year  1877-78,  when 
they  became  recognized  as  unsurpassed  by  any  public 
school  system  of  the  entire  West. 

The  year  1878-79  was  marked  by  the  increased  fa- 
cilities for  the  accommodation  of  the  rapidly  increasing 
enrollment.  The  year  1879-80  also  witnessed  a rapid 
increase  in  the  attendance,  the  enumeration  being  an 
increase  of  three  thousand  eight  hundred  and  fifty  over 
the  preceding  year. 

In  1884,  Superintendent  Greenwood  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  Xational  Council  of  the  Educational  As- 
sociation, and  for  years  was  chairman  of  the  Committee 
on  Statistics,  etc. 

He  was  selected  to  revise  Ray's  Higher  Arithmetic, 
the  revision  being  completed  in  1885. 

Two  years  later  his  well-known  work,  ‘‘Principles  of 
Education  Practically  Applied,”  was  issued  from  the 
publishing  house  of  D.  Appleton  & Company.  The 
same  year  he  was  elected  a life  director  of  the  National 
Educational  Association. 

In  1888.  Dr.  Greenwood  wrote  the  historical  sketch 
of  Missouri  for  Butler's  Advanced  Geography.  This 
supplement  is  equivalent  to  a 12mo  book  of  eighty 

pages. 

—20— 


304 


FIVE  FUIOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


For  many  years  there  has  existed  a close  friendshij) 
between  Greenwood  and  Dr.  William  T.  Harris,  Nation- 
al Commissioner  of  Education.  This  incident  serves  to 
illustrate  their  intimacy  and  at  the  same  time  tells  of 
Harris’  remarkable  apx)ointment  to  a bureau  chiefshij). 

At  the  time  of  President  Benjamin  Harrison’s  in- 
auguration, the  Dei)artment  of  Sux)erintendents  held 
its  annual  meeting  in  Washington.  This  organization 
is  nou-i)artisan,  and  there  was  consequently  consider- 
able speculation  among  the  suiierintendents  regarding 
the  ai)pointment  to  be  made  by  the  President.  About 
a dozen  Eepublican  educators  were  aspiring  to  the  Co  , n- 
missionership  of  Education,  but  there  was  a concensus 
of  opinion,  irrespective  of  the  superintendents’  par- 
tisan opinions,  that  Dr.  William  T.  Harris,  formerly 
superintendent  of  tbe  St.  Louis  city  schools,  was  the 
proper  man  for  the  i^osition  if  he  would  accept  the 
office.  To  this  all  the  aspirants  agreed  save  one,  who 
had,  during  the  Civil  War,  been  commander  of  a bri- 
gade under  General  Harrison.  At  the  time  the  con- 
sultation was  held.  Dr.  Harris  was  not  in  Washington, 
but  was  expected  to  arrive  ihere  before  the  close  of  the 
session.  Since  leaving  the  St.  Lonis  schools  he  had 
been  busily  engaged  in  editing  various  publications  for 
D.  Appleton  & Co.  It  was  agreed  by  the  aspirants 
for  the  commissionership,  except  the  one  previously 
indicated,  that  Dr.  Greenwood,  because  of  his  intimate 
acquaintance  with  Harris,  should  ascertain  the  proba- 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


305 


bility  of  the  latter’s  acceptance,  if  the  position  were 
tendered  him.  Greenwood  replied  that  he  would  do 
so  with  pleasure,  and  report  the  result,  all  the  candi- 
dates being  his  warm  personal  friends.  At  luncheon, 
the  second  day  of  the  session,  he  asked  Dr.  Harris  if 
he  would  accept  the  position.  He  replied:  “I  voted 
against  President  Harrison.  I do  not  agree  with  the 
Republicans  on  the  tariff,  and,  besides,  I can  do  noth- 
ing whatever  toward  securing  the  position.”  Then 
Dr.  Greenwood  said:  “Mr.  Harris,  the  educators  of 
this  country  want  you  at  the  head  of  the  system  of  the 
United  States.”  Harris  then  replied  to  this  statement; 
“If,  under  the  circumstances  I have  mentioned,  the 
President  should  offer  it  to  me,  I will  accept  it.”  “All 
right,”  said  Dr.  Greenwood;  “we  will  do  our  best.’’ 

The  third  day  of  the  session  the  superintendents 
were  invited  to  the  White  House  at  12  m.  While  be- 
ing introduced  to  the  President,  about  fifteen  of  the 
superintendents,  among  them  Dr.  Greenwood,  were 
invited  to  remain  a few  minutes,  and  then  each  had  a 
few  minutes’  conversation  with  the  President.  It  was 
the  opinion  of  Greenwood  that  he  was  “sizing-up’’  the 
Republican  candidates. 

But  when  the  time  came  for  making  the  appoint- 
ment, President  Harrison  sent  for  Dr.  Harris,  and  the 
latter  frankly  told  the  President  how  he  had  voted  and 
that  politically  he  would  do  nothing  to  secure  the  ap- 
pointment. The  President  replied  to  this  that  the  edu- 


306 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


caloi's  of  I lie  count  l y wanted  liiin  appointed  and  that 
he  would  nominate  him.  Pending  the  nomination,  the 
other  candidate,  as  is  told  h_v  a I'esident  of  Boston, 
W(*nt  to  see  Pi(*sident  Ilarrison  to  urge  his  own  candi-' 
dacy.  ^^’hen  the  candidate  hroacdied  the  subject,  the 
President  ipiickly  asked  him:  ^‘How  would  Dr.  Harris 
do?’’  The  candidate,  knowing  Harris’  eminent  quali- 
fications, conld  but  rejdy,  “Admirably.”  “Well,”  said 
Harrison,  “I  will  ap]ioint  him.” 

P]ion  the  election  of  Grover  Cleveland  to  the  jn'esi- 
dency,  he  retained  Dr.  Harris  in  oftice,  as  has  his  snc- 
cessoi'.  President  ^IcKinley. 

Thus  the  present  Commissioner  enjoys  the  unique 
distinction  of  being  a bureau  chief  appointed  without 
any  consideration  of  his  partisan  opinions  and  by  a 
member  of  a political  jiarty  against  wdiich  he  had 
always  voted.  In  this  respect  the  well-known  and 
scholarly  Commissioner  has  been  fortnnate,  having  held 
the  office  during  the  administrations  of  three  presidents, 
re]iresenting  two  political  parties. 

“A  Complete  Manual  on  Teaching  Arithmetic, 
Algebra,  and  Geometry,  including  a Brief  History  of 
tlu'se  Branches,”  was  written  by  Dr.  Greenwood,  and 
published  by  Maynard,  Merrill  Company,  New  York, 
1890.  The  same  year  he  was  elected  Treasurer  of  the 
National  Educational  Association,  and  held  the  office 
for  live  years,  resigning  in  1895  in  order  to  go  to  Europe. 


JAMES  M.  riREEXWOOI). 


307 


111  the  years  1890-91  he  revised  Welsh’s  English 
Grammars. 

In  1893  he  was  one  of  the  members  of  the  “Com- 
mittee of  Fifteen”  which  reported  to  the  National 
Education  on  Pllementary  Education.  This  committee 
was  divided  into  three  subcommittees,  consisting  of  live 
members  each:  on  the  Training  of  Teachers;  on  the 
Correlation  of  Studies;  on  the  Organization  of  City 
School  Systems.  The  Committee  on  Correlation  of 
Studies  was  Hon.  W.  T.  Harris,  Commissioner  of  Edu- 
cation, IV'ashingtou,  chairman;  Siipt.  J.  M.  Greenwood, 
Kansas  City,  Mo.,  secretary;  Supt.  C.  B.  Gilbert,  St. 
Paul,  Minn.;  Supt.  L.  H.  Jones,  Cleveland,  Ohio;  and 
Supt.  W.  H.  Maxwell,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

In  June,  1895,  he  left  for  Europe  to  enjoy  a much 
needed  rest  and  to  observe  the  progress  of  education  in 
Ihe  principal  European  countries.  The  steamship’s 
passengers  comprised  United  States  Commissioner  of 
fiducation  Harris,  Dr.  J.  M.  Greenwood,  Charles  A. 
Dana,  of  the  New  York  Sun,  General  Wilson,  of  Min- 
nesota. a number  of  doctors  and  preachers,  and  many 
artists,  poets,  and  consuls.  His  trip  was  of  much  profit 
both  to  himself  and  the  educational  interests  of  the 
United  States,  since  he  gave  to  the  public,  from  the 
rostrum  and  through  the  ])ress,  a detailed  account  of 
the  educational  situation  in  the  countries  through 
which  he  traveled. 


308 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Ten  years  after  Superintendent  Greenwood  was 
elected  a life  director  of  the  National  Educational  As- 
sociation, he  was  elected  President  of  that  body.  That 
same  year,  1897,  the  curators  of  the  Missouri  State  Uni- 
versity, without  solicitation  or  application  from  any 
source  and  without  his  knowledge,  conferred  the  degree 
of  Doctor  of  Laws  upon  Superintendent  Greenwood. 
This  act  was  a fitting  recognition  of  his  scholarly 
attainments. 

Wars  are  about  the  most  efficient  map-changers,  but 
without  a war — save  of  words,  and  they  were  mild  and 
diplomatic — Dr.  Greenwood  was  chiefly  instrumental 
in  greatly  changing  the  map  of  the  United  States. 

Just  after  the  official  map  of  1897  was  issued  by  the 
Commissioner  General  of  the  Land  Office,  a copy  was 
sent  to  the  Kansas  City  public  library  from  the  Interior 
Department  at  Washington.  The  map  was  printed  in 
diversified  colors,  which  showed  the  expansion  of  the 
country  from  the  thirteen  Colonies  to  the  time  of  its 
issuance. 

One  day  Dr.  Greenwood  was  looking  at  the  new 
map  and  observed  that  the  color  which  denoted  the 
Louisana  Purchase  extended  to  the  Pacific  coast,  and 
included  Oregon  and  Washington  and  parts  of  Mon- 
tana, Idaho,  and  Wyoming. 

“I ’m  not  a master  student  of  American  history,” 
said  Dr.  Greenwood  in  relating  the  incident,  “but  I 
know  a good  deal  about  my  country’s  history,  and  the 


'.JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


309 


minute  I looked  at  that  map  I said  to  myself:  ‘Did  the 

Louisiana  Purchase  extend  to  the  Pacific  coast?’ 

“The  thought  grew  on  me,  and  I determined  to  in- 
vestigate the  matter.  I read  Ihe  letters  of  Jefferson  and 
Marbios,-  one  of  the  French  commissioners,  and  they 
agreed  with  my  opinion — that  the  purchase  extended 
only  to  the  foot  of  what  were  then  known  as  the  Stony 
Mountains,  now  the  Rockies.  I consulted  other  authori- 
ties, and  they  all  upheld  me.  But  I looked  at  a great 
many  maps  and  found  them  like  the  Government  map. 

“One  afternoon  I mentioned  the  fact  to  a newspaper 
reporter.  He  made  a note  of  it  and  the  next  day  a long 
article  in  regard  to  the  matter  was  published.  That 
was  in  December,  1 think.  Well,  in  a few  weeks  I was 
getting  newspaper  clippings  and  letters  from  all  over 
the  country.  Some  persons  and  papers  agreed  with  me 
and  others  did  not.  I still  felt  certain  that  I was  right, 
and  when  Prof.  A.  B.  Hinsdale,  of  the  University  of 
Michigan,  came  out  in  a statement  upholding  me,  I 
knew  I was.  He  is  authority  on  all  such  things. 

“The  matter  was  discussed  in  the  press  for  months, 
the  New  York  papers  giving  special  attention  to  it. 
Finally,  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior  Department  took 
it  up.  When  I was  in  Washington  later  on,  I went  to 
the  library  and  looked  over  the  old  maps.  They  npheld 
me,  showing  that  the  Louisiana  Purchase  extended  only 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  One  day  I stepped  into  the 
Department  of  Engraving  and  Printing,  and,  pointing 


310 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MIESOVRIAES. 


to  the  iiiaj)  of  1807,  asked  llie  liead  of  tliat  de]»ai-tmeiit 
Avlieii  the  ma])  A\'oiild  be  coiTected.  He  answered  that 
the  matter  was  under  investigation.  And  I later 
learned  that  the  change  was  ordered  and  that  the  Com- 
missiomn-  General  of  the  laind  Ofiice  had  recommended 
that  a new  map  be  made.  It  was,  ])erhaps,  a mistake 
of  the  engraver’s  or  iM'intei'’s,  but  it  was  a mistake,  and 
I knew  it  when  I first  looked  at  the  nui]).  I am  glad 
that  it  was  cori-ecded.” 

To-day  the  Kansas  City  public  school  system  is  a 
criterion  after  which  many  Avesteni,  and  CAmn  some 
eastern,  schools  are  patterned.  Their  rating  and  sup- 
](ort  is  mainly  due  to  Dr.  GreeiiAAmod’s  prudent,  skillful, 
and  magnetic  intlnence;  his  ability  to  grasp  relations 
and  determine  results.  The  growth  and  excellence  of 
the  public  school  system  at  Kansas  City  Avas  not  the 
result  of  a year's  or  live  years'  Avoik,  but  is  the  result  of 
Dr.  (ireeuAvood's  unceasing  labor  for  a quarter  of  a cen- 
tury. He  has  never  been  spasmodic  in  his  efforts;  on 
the  contrary,  they  have  l)een  well-outlined  and  AA^ell- 
directed,  Avith  the  A'ieAA’  of  theii-  ultimately  accomplish- 
ing the  end  to  Avhich  he  directed  his  laboi's. 

Thei'e  is  perha])S  no  school  system  in  the  world 
Avhere  details  sncli  as  ventilation  of  school  rooms,  the 
comfort  of  children,  the  possibilities  of  improvement, 
the  nurturing  of  every  sjiark  of  character,  are  looked 
after  with  such  cai'e  as  in  Kansas  City  under  the  super- 
vision of  James  M.  Greemvood.  Himself  a tireless 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


311 


worker  in  every  brancli  of  a teacher’s  work,  he  is  coutiu- 
uously  watching  the  vast  system  under  his  control,  so 
assiduously  striving  for  improvement  that  each  passing 
season  witnesses  ttie  placing  of  Kansas  ('ity  educa- 
tional interests  upon  a higher  plane. 


CITAPTER  IV. 


DR.  GREENWOOD’S  PERSONALITY.— HIS  LIFE- 
WORK.— HIS  PROMINENCE  IN  THE 
EDUCATIONAL  WORLD. 

The  renowned  physiologist,  Axenfield,  once  said: 
“Men  of  genius  are  always  the  first-born  of  their 
parents.  Second  or  third  sons  may  be  eminent  men, 
and  sons  born  later  may  be  men  of  talent,  but  they  can 
never  be  great.” 

Axenfield’s  assertion  is  not  an  infallible  law,  for 
many  notables  have  been  younger  sous.  Bismarck  and 
Gladstone  were  fourth  sons.  ■ Shakespeare,  Charles 
James  Fox,  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  Lord  Lytton,  Ten- 
nyson, and  Philip  of  Macedon  were  third  sons.  Other 
men  eminent  in  literature  or  affairs  of  state  have  been 
even  younger  sons  of  their  parents.  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin was  fifteenth  son;  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  seventh  son; 
Alfred  the  Great,  fifth  sou;  Sir  R.  Arkwright,  thir- 
teenth; and  so  forth. 

Be  it  as  it  may,  certainly  it  is  a remarkable  coinci- 
dence that  four  of  these  five  famous  Missourians  were 
first-born  sous:  James  M.  Greenwood,  Champ  Clark, 

Richard  Parks  Bland,  and  Joseph  Orville  Shelby. 

In  general  the  transmission  of  genius  can  scarcely 
be  questioned,  but,  as  someone  has  aptly  put  it,  “there 


JAMESi  M.  GREENWOOD. 


313 


is  no  genius  but  bard  work,”  and  whatever  claim  to  dis- 
tinction James  M.  Greenwood  may  have  is  attributed  to 
a life  replete  with  energy  directed  in  the  proper  chan- 
nels. He  is  an  incessant  worker,  and  many  incidents 
are  told  illustrative  of  this  trait.  A fellow-teacher  and 
friend  related  this  incident : “When  Bowser’s  Geometry 
first  appeared,  both  Supt.  Greenwood  and  I started  in 
to  solve  the  nine  hundred  original  exercises  in  it.  Of 
course  we  sometimes  consulted  one  another  as  to  dem- 
onstrations. I was  fresh  in  the  subject,  being  engaged 
in  teaching  it,  and  took  delight  in  the  problems,  but,  to 
my  great  surprise,  the  old  gentleman  beat  me  through 
by  about  a month.” 

In  Dr.  Greenwood  there  is  a conspicuous  example  of 
one  whose  whole  soul  is  in  his  work.  Every  fibre  of  his 
being  is  permeated  with  educational  ideas;  every  stroke 
of  his  pen,  every  wmrd  from  his  mouth,  every  movement 
of  his  body  is  to  the  development  of  a supreme  ideal. 

A comprehensive  judgment  appreciates  not  only  the 
force  of  circumstances  which  creates  opportunities  for 
famous  men,  but  the  individual  and  separate  links  in 
the  chain  of  life,  which,  welded  together,  form  the 
entirety.  The  judgment  is  most  complete  when  it  dis- 
cerns the  inner  personality  known  to  the  intimate 
friends  and  associates.  The  world  of  educators  see 
Dr.  Greenwood  as  one  of  their  trusted  fellow-workers, 
but  those  who  have  known  him  in  every-day  life  in  Kan- 
sas City  catch  glimpses  of  the  detailed  elements  of  the 


314 


FIVE  FAMOVE  MIESOERI AUS. 


mail's  real  greatness,  while  many  others  see  only  the 
prominent  features  in  the  contour  of  his  life. 

Ilis  personal  side  is  by  no  means  less  attractive  than 
his  general  professional  work.  Without  the  self-assur- 
ance and  inij)Osing  manner,  frecpiently  found  in  the 
scholarly  man,  Di-.  Greenwood  meets  an  associate  or 
stranger  uj)on  a friendly  footing,  always  impressing 
OHe  as  a man  given  to  the  most  careful  reasoning,  the 
most  searching  impiiry,  the  clearest  thinking.  His 
characteristic  simplicity,  frankness  of  manner  and  of 
speech  are  especially  charming.  The  quiet:  and  modest 
reserve  usually  environing  the  person  of  the  truly  edu- 
cated and  cultured  man  shows  forth  plainly  in  him. 
The  scores  of  -teachers  who  labored  with  him  for  more 
than  a decade  testify  to  their  ajipreciation  of  him.  They 
speak  of  him  as  one  of  the  most  constairt  of  friends,  the 
frankest  and  sincerest  of  advisers,  as  well  as  the  most 
untiring  of  workers. 

He  has  ever  been  on  the  alert  to  familiarize  himself 
with  the  best  that  is  going  on  in  the  educational  world. 
As  an  evidence  of  his  progressiveness,  he  was  the  first 
American  to  snl)scribe  for  the  Educational  Times,  pub- 
lished in  London,  the  international  organ  of  affairs  of 
education.  This  was  in  18d5,  and  he  has  been  a contin- 
uous reader  ever  since.  He  has  always  utilized  a por- 
tion of  his  time  in  making  his  scholarship  higher  and 
familiarizing  himself  with  current  ideas  on  his  work. 
‘Tdow  can  a teacher  inspire  children  with  a burning 


JAMES  M.  (IREENWOOD. 


315 


thirst  for  kuowledj^o  unless  llie  tire  first  hiiriit  with  a 
fervent  glow'  n[»on  the  altar  (»f  a teacher's  heart T’  he 
said.  "How  can  a teachei-  go  forth  (*ach  year  to  the 
coin[uest  of  new  realms  of  thought  without  enthusiasm 
and  an  insatiable  desire  to  extend  the  boundaries  of 
knowledge?  Would  that  all  the  teachers  in  this  l»road 
land  of  ours  could  he  touched  by  some  magic  wand  that 
would  arouse  them  t(»  the  most  intense  activity,  and  fill 
their  souls  with  a thirst  for  knowledge  that  dims  not 
with  declining  years.” 

Perhaps  the  nu»st  notew'orthy  trait  in  his  personality 
is  his  originality  in  thought,  speech,  and  work.  He  be- 
lieves in  an  exercise  of  the  greatest  possible  individual- 
ity on  the  part  of  principals  and  their  assistant  teachers. 
One  of  his  co-workers,  anent  this,  said:  "Nobody  w'eais 
a brass  collar  in  Kansas  City.  Everyone  is  expected  to 
think  for  himself  and  say  what  he  thinks.”  If  a teacher 
has  an  educational  ideal,  he  is  permitted  to  w'ork  it  out 
in  practice.  Many  such  ex])eriments  have  been  tried 
by  the  principals  of  the  resi>ective  schools  with  high- 
ly satisfactory  results. 

He  advocated  special  chairs  of  English  in  colleges 
and  high  schools  several  years  before  many  of  the  heads 
of  higher  institutions  would  consent  to  such  innova- 
tions. That  he  was  ultimately  successful  in  his  advo- 
cacy is  exemplified  by  the  fact  that  the  Kansas  City 
high  school  w-as  the  first  in  the  entire  West  to  effectual- 
ly and  systematically'  organize  both  laboratory  science 


316 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


and  literature,  and  that  many  schools  have  since  fol- 
lowed the  precedent  he  established. 

Another  element  of  Superintendent  Greenwood’s 
policy  is  his  original  method  of  selecting  principals  and 
teachers,  in  which,  it  is  said,  Kansas  City  is  unlike  any 
other  city  in  the  United  States.  In  many  cities  there 
is  an  objection  to  “outsiders”  and  “home  talent”  is  al- 
lowed to  discriminate  against  persons  who  have  been 
educated  abroad  and  who  are  doubtless  better  flitted  and 
better  trained  for  the  school-room.  In  Superintendent 
Greenwood’s  policy  tliere  is  entirely  absent  what  is 
termed  “inbreeding,’’  principals  and  teachers  being  se- 
lected from  all  i)arts  of  the  United  States.  With  the 
exception  of  fltuess,  which,  of  course,  embraces  the 
elements  constituting  a reflued  and  cultured  character, 
professional  capacity  and  skill,  no  other  modifying  or 
conditional  circumstance  is  employed  in  the  selection  of 
those  under  him.  The  best  of  educators,  irrespective 
of  sex,  nationality,  residence,  politics,  or  religion,  are 
selected  to  be  his  co-workers. 

While  he  has  always  been  on  the  alert  to  introduce 
new  policies  and  methods  in  the  school  system  under 
his  charge,  he  has  always  been  very  cautious  in  testing 
experiments  and  fads.  His  policy  in  this  particular  is 
probably  best  summed  up  in  his  own  words:  “Sound 

sense  is  the  best  qualiflcation  in  a superintendent.  He 
should  know  when  to  undertake  a new  scheme  without 
bankrupting  the  community;  when  to  take  a dog  by  the 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


317 


ears  to  avoid  getting  bit,  and  when  to  let  said  dog  loose 
and  hie  to  the  ‘mountains  of  Heijsidam.’  ” 

Although  very  original  in  his  methods,  he  is  a re- 
specter of  the  opinions  and  methods  of  others.  He  has 
visited  the  leading  school  systems  of  the  United  States, 
and  many  of  Europe,  in  order  to  observe  their  workings 
and  to  discern  the  ditference  in  their  methods  and  poli- 
cies; at  the  same  time  to  inform  himself  with  progress  of 
schools  other  than  his  own. 

He  has  ever  been  characterized  by  a commendable 
broadness  of  mind  in  school  work,  and  in  caring  for  the 
interests  of  children  whose  education  is  entrusted  to 
the  teacher.  Nothing  exemplifies  this  more  than  the 
position  he  assumed  a few  years  after  locating  in  Kan- 
sas City  in  regard  to  keeping  children  after  school. 
This  time-honored  custom  Dr.  (treenwood  opposed  most 
strenuously.  “If  a pupil  is  kept  in  after  regular  school 
hours,”  said  he,  “it  should  be  only  for  discipline  and  to 
learn  lessons  he  had  failed  to  prepare.  • Study  as  a 
means  of  punishment  is  radically  wrong.  Study  must 
come  from  glad  and  voluntary  effort.  Any  other  kind 
of  study  is  unnatural,  a delusion  and  a fraud.  Interest 
in  books  cannot  be  awakened  by  detaining  classes  after 
school  hours.” 

Dr.  Greenwood’s  annual  reports  of  the  Kansas  City 
public  schools  are  most  able,  interesting,  and  suggestive 
educational  documents.  Prof.  T.  F.  Donnelly,  of  New 
York,  once  wrote  to  Greenwood:  “You  are  one  of  the 


318 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


few  siijiei-intendeiits  of  the  country  wlio  liave  made  an 
indelible  iniiiression  u])on  the  educational  thought  of 
the  day,  and  you  have  every  reason  to  be  proud  of  the 
work  you  Imve  already  done.  I trust  that  you  will  be 
spared  many  years  to  witness  the  full  fruition  of  your 
work.”  W.  T.  Harris,  Commissioner  of  Elducation, 
ordered  from  Mr.  Ci'eeiiwood  a number  of  his  reports, 
writing:  “I  should  be  pleased  to  have  a nundier  of  the 

ju'esent  rej)orts  on  hand  to  send  or  ])resent  from  time  to 
time  to  European  scholars  and  others  especially  inter 
ested  in  our  educational  development.”  Professor  J. 
II.  1 loose,  a personal  friend  of  Dr.  Greenwood,  for  some 
time  P]-esident  of  the  State  Normal  School  at  Cortland, 
New  Yoi  k,  several  years  ago  wrote  to  his  much-admired 
Kansas  t’ity  friend,  referring  to  one  of  Greenwood's 
widely-((uoted  reports:  “I  am  deeply  iuqiressed  with 

your  rejKU't,  for  its  words  of  penetration  and  wisdom. 
Your  reports  explain  the  ])e]'Sonality  which  underlies 
the  high  character  of  the  Kansas  City  })ublic  schools — 
i.  e.  the  personality  is  Superintendent  Greenwood.” 
Kansas  City,  which  in  1874,  when  Greenwood  be- 
came su])erintendent  of  its  schools,  contained  a popu- 
lation of  about  28,00(1,  now  claims  a population  of  over 
200,000.  The  growth  and  elticiency of  its  public-school 
system  is  keeping  pace  with  other  enterprises.  Their 
rating  and  support  is  mostly  due  to  Superintendent 
Greenwood’s  prudent,  skillful,  and  magnetic  influence; 
his  ability  to  grasp  relations  and  determine  results. 


JAMES  M.  GEEEXMOOD. 


319 


Every  ward  school  in  Kansas  City  is  connected  with 
the  iSnperintendent  as  if  it  were  with  an  electrical  cui‘- 
rent;  everything  is  in  absolute  harmony;  all  are  in 
touch  with  the  progressive  head.  Yet,  after  all,  there  is 
a conscious  freedom  of  action,  of  thought,  and  of  en- 
deavor that  tends  to  invigorate  and  strengthen  the 
whole. 

A prominent  Kansas  Cityan  has  said:  “I  know  of 

no  greater  assurance  of  Kansas  City's  future  greatness 
than  the  domination  of  Dr.  Greenwood’s  progressive 
spirit  in  our  local  schools.  He  has  a vast  army  under 
him,  molding  the  type  of  the  future  Kansas  Cityans; 
and  I know  that  when  these  students  have  gone  into 
active  life,  there  will  be  no  lack  of  energetic,  progres- 
sive men  and  women  in  Kansas  City.” 

It  might  be  said  that  there  are  two  sides  to  Di'. 
Greenwood’s  professional  character,  the  literary  and 
the  educational.  Eeferring  to  the  former,  the  assertion 
may  be  made  that  few  educators  rank  as  high  as  he  in 
literary  work.  Others  may  be  as  erudite  in  general 
literature,  but  certainly  a limited  number  have  devel- 
oped the  art  of  expression  possessed  by  him. 

As  an  editorial  writer  in  metropolitan  papers,  a con- 
tributor to  reviews  and  magazines,  as  a lecturer  and  as 
an  author  of  pedagogical  and  educational  works.  Dr. 
Greenwood  has  achieved  notable  success. 

He  is  widely  known  as  a writer  in  educational  pub 
lications;  his  articles,  because  of  their  lucidity  of 
—21— 


320 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


thought,  are  iu  demand  by  magazines  and  reviews.  For 
many  years  he  contributed  to  many  American  mathe- 
matical journals.  He  is  a regular  contributor  to  the 
National  Journal  of  Echication,  Education,  Popular  Edu 
cator,  New  York  School  J ournal,  Educational  Review,  School 
and  Home,  Intelligence,  Missouri  School  Journal,  and 
numerous  other  publications.  His  articles  are  exten- 
sively copied  in  other  journals  to  which  he  is  not  a 
contributor.  * 

He  is  a magnetic,  an  original,  a logical,  and  on  cer- 
tain occasions  an  exceedingly  eloquent  lecturer.  Since 
1870  he  has  delivered  more  than  a thousand  addresses 
iu  the  States,  of  Missouri,  Iowa,  Kansas,  Illinois,  Ohio, 
Nebraska,  Pennsylvania,  New  York,  Mississippi,  Massa- 
chusetts, Minnesota,  California,  Arkansas,  and  Florida. 

Greenwood’s  opinions  upon  any  phase  of  education 
are  valued  by  publishers  and  all  interested  in  higher 
education.  For  a number  of  years  few  standard  text- 
books have  been  issued  that  he  has  not  assisted  either 
iu  the  preparation  or  revision  of  the  publications. 

In  1887  D.  Appleton  & Company  published  “Prin- 
ciples of  Education  Practically  Applied,”  written  by 
James  M.  Greenwood. 

“A  Complete  Manual  on  Teaching  Arithmetic,  Al- 
gebra, and  Geometry,” published  by  Maynard,  Merrill  & 
Company,  was  issued  in  1890.  In  its  scope  and  methods 
this  treatise  is  unlike  any  other  work  ever  published  in 
America.  As  the  author  says  in  the  preface  to  the 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


321 


work : “Two  distinct  lines  of  thought  are  developed  in 

the  treatment  of  each  branch — the  historical  phase  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  scientific  method  of  presentation 
on  the  other.”  The  book  has  had  a wide  sale  and  is  a 
recognized  authority  on  the  topics  discussed  in  it. 

In  collaboration  with  Dr.  Artemas  Martin,  editor  of 
the  Mathematical  Magazine,  Greenwood  has  written  “A 
History  of  American  Arithmetics  and  a Biographical 
Sketch  of  the  Authors,”  and  which  has  been  issued  as 
a Government  publication.  The  occasion  of  the  book 
being  written  is  told  by  Dr.  Greenwood;  Several 
years  ago.  in  studying  the  history  of  arithmetic,  he  se- 
cured a copy  of  “Arithmetical  Books,”  by  Prof.  August- 
us De  Morgan,  published  in  London  in  1847.  In  this 
work  Professor  De  Morgan  mentions  1,580  names  of 
authors  and  editors  of  works  on  arithmetic,  but  actu- 
ally examined  and  briefly  described  less  than  one-third 
of  these  books.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  De  Morgan 
knew  nothing,  comparatively,  of  our  American  arith- 
metics. When  “Arithmetical  Books”  appeared,  more 
than  eighty  different  American  authors  had  written 
text-books  on  arithmetic.  Finding  this  blank  in  the 
mathematical  literature  of  our  country.  Greenwood  de- 
cided to  make  a collection  of  American  works,  describe 
them,  and,  whenever  possible,  to  give  a brief  sketch  of 
each  author.  Public  and  private  libraries  from  Boston 
to  San  Francisco  w^ere  examined  with  a view  of  furnish- 
ing as  complete  a list  of  authors  as  possible.  Th.e  most 


322 


FITE  F AMOVE  MI8E0VRIAF8. 


extensive  works  on  American  biography  contain  few 
names,  comparatively,  of  oiir  school-book  anlhors; 
therefore,  the  work  fills  a held  pecnliarly  its  own  and  is 
a valuable  acquisition  to  arithmetical  libraries. 

As  a reviser  of  standard  arithmetics.  Dr.  Greenwood 
is  in  demand  by  publishers,  and  has  revised  numerous 
other  mathematical  works.  Gouldwin  Brown  was  a 
grammarian  of  such  versatile  and  extensive  knowledge 
tliat  he  wrote  the  famous  “Grammar  of  Grammars,” 
nearly  half  a century  ago;  the  works  of  Dr.  Greenwood 
testify  that  he  is  so  gifted  in  mathematics  that  he  could 
write  with  success  an  “Arithmetic  of  Arithmetics.” 

In  historical  writing  he  is  proficient,  having  pro- 
duced a number  of  historical  sketches  for  encyclopedias 
and  other  compilations. 

lie  spent  some  time  in  the  study  of  law,  but  soon 
abandoned  the  study,  for  his  predilection  for  teaching 
asserted  itself.  His  reason  for  discontinuing  the  study 
was,  to  use  his  own  words:  “Not  being  suited  for  the 

profession,  I found  it  to  be  a splendid  opportunity  for 
starving  to  death,  and  for  that  reason  quit.”  Then  con- 
tinuing, he  said:  “I  know  but  two  occupations  well — 

farming  and  school-teaching.”  When  but  a mere  youth, 
he  read  Blackstone  through  in  five  days.  Dr.  Green- 
wood is  exceptionally  posted  in  affairs  of  law,  especially 
the  law  of  contracts  and  evictence,  for  one  who  is  not  a 
practitioner. 


JAMES  M.  GREENWOOD. 


323 


Few  Americans  have  been  honored  with  as  many 
high  and  responsible  offices  in  educational  organiza- 
tions as  has  James  M.  Greenwood.  He  has  been  Pres- 
ident of  the  Missouri  State  Teachers’  Association; 
member  of  the  National  Council  'of  the  Educational  As- 
sociation; member  of  the  Committee  on  Elementary 
Education;  President  of  the  National  Educational  As- 
sociation, and  is  now  First  Vice-President  and  a life 
director  of  that  body. 

For  a completion  of  this  sketch  the  reader  is  per- 
force referred  to  the  future,  for  only  a careful  observa- 
tion of  Dr.  James  M.  Greenwood  in  time  subsequent  to 
the  present  can  complete  our  contemplation  of  him.  He 
now  stands  as  one  of  the  most  complete  successes  of 
educational  and  intellectual  development  in  the  Middle 
West. 


X 


ciOSEPn  ORVILLE  SMELBY. 


SOLDIER. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Events  and  changes  come  into  life  unbidden,  and 
whether  they  be  clouds  or  sunshine,  the  inevitable  is 
accepted. 

To  carve  out  one’s  own  destiny  is  simply  to  control 
or  shape  them,  but  to  “bear  ye  one  another’s  burdens,” 
“and  so  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ,”  upon  whose  promise, 
“And  I,  if  I be  lifted  tip,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me,’’ 
hangs  the  filmy  thread  of  hope. 

The  unwary  have  said  a picture  can  be  painted  with- 
out a blemish;  but  the  master’s  brush  when  true  to 
nature,  though  dipped  in  the  roseate  hues  of  an  Italian 
sunset  or  the  crystal  imagery  of  a halcyon  dream,  dis- 
closes some  scars  that  mar  its  beauty;  yet,  when  beheld 
in  tender  memory,  its  smiles  and  softer  lineaments 
stand  out  in  bold  relief.  It  is  mine  to  show  the  smiles; 
it  is  God’s  to  take  care  of  the  scars.  What  wall  of  ada- 
mantine resolution  can  steel  itself  impregnable  to  the 
tempter’s  dart?  Or  whence  that  immortal  paraphrase 
on  which  hinges  the  supplication  of  all  eternity;  “Lead 
us  not  into  temptation”? 

With  some  life  begins  a little  rivulet,  coursing  along 
unnoticed  through  quiet  meadows  and  shady  wood- 
lands; wild  flowers  and  grasses  its  only  beneficiaries, 
until  lost  in  the  mythical  space  of  Time.  Another 
shoots  up  strong  and  gushing  from  the  mountain-top, 


328 


INTRODUCTION. 


gathering  strength  and  volume  as  it  goes;  the  gentle 
spray  and  mist  from  its  cataracts  permeate  and  fructify 
all  vegetation  within  its  scope.  It  thunders  against 
huge  boulders  and  swallows  them;  it  tears  the  roots  of 
overhanging  trees,  implanted  by  waves  of  the  deluge;  it 
nnstratifies  the  layers  of  impending  cliffs,  formed  from 
epoch  to  epoch,  and,  unresisted,  plunges  into  a great 
whirlpool  at  the  base,  to  mingle  with  powers  that  help 
to  move  the  world.  No  obstacle  too  great,  no  public 
opinion  too  strong  to  swerve  General  Shelby  from  his 
conception  of  duty.  Those  who  knew  him  best  will 
endorse  this  similitude,  and  that  he  was  a born  warrior, 
a feai'less  leader,  all  will  agree.  His  leadership  mani- 
fested itself  in  early  childhood. 

Once  Miss was  visiting  her  aunt  in  Lexing- 

ton, Kentucky.  A general  in  the  Eegular  Army  on  fur- 
lough visited  that  city  at  the  same  time.  Little  Joe 
Shelby,  thinking  his  visits  to  the  young  lady  too  fre- 
quent, slipped  over  one  night  and  hung  the  following 
placard  on  the  front  gate;  ‘‘General  ’s  Head- 

quarters, U.  S.  A.”  She  was  very  indignant  then,  at 
what  proved  a blessing  after  many  years.  During  the 
Civil  War  this  officer  was  ordered  to  Lexington,  and, 
locating  his  troops  near  this  same  house,  proceeded  to 
occupy  it  in  reality  for  “Headquarters.”  The  owner 
treated  the  intruder  with  her  usual  courtesy,  but  asked 
him  if  he  did  not  remember  this  joke;  at  the  same  time 
offering  him  a room  in  her  commodious  house  for  an 


INTRODTJOTIO'M. 


329 


office,  which  he  positively  refused,  saying  instead:  “I 
will  send  a guard  to  protect  you  so  long  as  I stay  here,” 
^^ich  promise  he  faithfully  kept.  She  often  told  this 
story  and  said  little  Joe’s  daring  piece  of  fun — show- 
ing the  gushing  fountain  at  ten  years — saved  her  home 
from  destruction,  for  she  was  the  mother  of  the  great 
Southern  raider,  John  Morgan. 

General  Shelby  was  a man  of  indomitable  will,  sub- 
serving to  its  power  those  within  its  jurisdiction,  but 
never  descending  from  that  high  degree  of  courtesy  and 
kindlier  attributes  of  his  nature.  A friend  from  his 
own  ranks,  who  stood  by  the  bier  weeping,  said : ‘‘There 
lies  the  Bayard  of  America.”  Another, from  the  judicial 
chamber — an  opposing  officer  iu  the  great  internecine 
struggle — in  his  grand  eulogy  before  the  largest  audi- 
ence ever  assembled  in  Kansas  City  on  a similar  occa- 
sion, said : “I  have  never  seen  such  courtesy  in  all  my 

experience.”  “Among  the  many  gallant  acts  in  our  of- 
ficial intercourse,  he  always  removed  his  hat  when  in 
my  presence” — not  like  a subaltern,  but  a prince  ready 
to  be  crowned. 

All  writers  have  agreed  on  his  intuitive  skill  upon 
the  battle-field.  To  have  heard  the  impassioned  though 
steady  voice;  to  have  seen  the  calm  demeanor  of  a vet- 
eran tactician,  as  the  young  soldier  deployed  his  small 
command  for  the  first  time  against  a regiment  of  Reg- 
ulars, was  soul-stirring;  giving  him  the  confidence  and 


830 


INTRODUCTION. 


I)laudits  of  soldiers  aud  civilians,  and  bringing  him 
recruits  from  every  quarter. 

In  the  subsequent  history  a brief  detail  of  his  first 
engagement  may  interest  the  reader. 


At  last  the  shadows  fell  upon  the  evening  of  a very 
checkered  life,  rebounding  unsullied  from  the  accidents 
and  struggles  of  its- storms;  conquered  only  by  the 
sword  of  Death.  The  gratitude  for  his  magnanimity 
to  fallen  enemies  upon  the  battle-field  made  them 
friends  under  his  solemn  tent  now.  With  grievous 
hearts  and  bowed  heads,  the  old  Confederate  boys — as 
he  once  called  them — from  all  over  Missouri  and  other 
S^tates,  gathered  around  their  chieftain  in  the  re])Ose 
of  death,  and  Avith  whispering  sorrow  offered  all  that 
Avas  left  them,  the  undying  faith  in  a Confederate  sol- 
dier’s love. 

With  one  sad  pleasure  this  young  noble-hearted  city 
bared  her  head  to  the  bitter  wind,  and,  bowing  unani- 
mously with  pride  and  solemnity  to  her  adopted  hero, 
laid  him  to  rest  by  the  side  of  his  intrepid  soldiers,  in 
their  oAvn  blood  bought  l)attle-ground  at  Forest  Hill. 

fhJ^  lI  J ■ 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  FAMILY  OF  OENERAL  SHELBY.— BOY- 
HOOD AND  SCHOOL  DAYS.— THREE 
FAMOUS  COUSINS.— REMOVAL 
TO  MISSOURI.— EARLY 
HOSTILITIES. 

The  familj'  from  which  General  Joseph  Orville 
Shelby  is  sprung  is  one  of  the  rare  old  families  upon 
which  Kentucky  justly  prides  herself.  He  comes  of  a 
noble  race,  which  has  been  productive  of  many  who 
have  been  accorded  fame  in  the  various  walks  of  life;  a 
race  chai'acterized  by  a wondrous  intellectual  power 
and  an  indescribable  courage,  which  never  learned  to 
falter;  a race  with  a chivalrous  nature  pouring  down 
from  the  heights  of  chevalier  history. 

The  race  that  gave  to  the  Trans-Mississippi  Con- 
federacy its  leader  Shelby  was  the  same  that  plac;  d 
Thomas  Hart  Benton,  Francis  Preston  Blair,  and  Ben- 
jamin Gratz  Brown  in  a world  from  whose  reluctanct^ 
these  men  snatched  honors  and  undying  fame.  It  was 
a race  in  which  was  mingled  the  hardy  spirit  of  the 
pioneer  with  the  refined  tastes  and  aspirations  of  the 
Virginian  of  the  Colonial  period.  It  was  a race  that 
fostered  the  growth  of  the  elements  of  heroism  in  its 
numbers;  a race  that  made  history  with  its  footprints 


332 


FlYE  FAM0V8  MISSOURI AFS. 


left  on  Kentucky  soil,  Avith  its  racial  voice  lifted  in 
council-chambers  and  with  the  clash  in  battle  of  arms 
held  in  its  sous’  hands.  Even  the  smiles  and  beauty  of 
its  daughters  have  contributed  to  the  making  of  Ken- 
tucky history.  Yet  in  the  prime  period  of  its  fruitful- 
ness, it  was  broken  upon  an  intruding  rock.  The  Civil 
severed  and  divided  it  so  sorely  that  nothing 
to-day  remains  but  scattered  branches  and  the  glory  of 
its  brightest  days. 

Out  of  Virginia  came,  about  the  close  of  the  eight- 
eenth century,  a distinguished  officer  of  the  American 
Kevolution,  Colonel  Nathaniel  Gist.  He  settled  in 
Montgomery  County,  Kentucky,  and  reared  four  fair 
daughters.  The  Gists  were  among  Kentucky’s  first 
pioneers. 

One  daughter  of  Colonel  Gist  married  Judge  Jesse 
Bledsoe,  one  Mr.  Benjamin  Gratz,  one  Mr.  Thomas  Bos- 
well, while  the  youngest  became  the  wife  of  Francis 
Preston  Blair,  senior. 

Judge  Bledsoe  was  an  eloquent  and  distinguished 
man,  but  unfortunately  of  infiini  habits.  His  daughter 
married  Judge  Mason  Brown,  of  Frankfort,  and,  dying 
early  in  life,  left  one  child,  a son,  Benjamin  Gratz 
Brown,  a namesake  of  Benjamin  Gratz,  the  wealthy 
hemp  manufacturer  of  Lexington,  under  Avhose  hospit- 
able roof  three  famous  cousins,  Frank  Blair,  Gratz 
Brown,  and  Joseph  O.  Shelby,  spent  much  of  their 
youth. 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


333 


One  of  the  daughters  of  Thomas  Boswell  married 
Orville  Shelby,  a son  of  Isaac  Shelby,  first  governor  of 
Kentucky. 

Isaac  Shelby,  a familiar  figure  in  Kentucky  history, 
possessed  many  traits  of  character  embodied  in  Joseph 
Orville,  the  son  of  Orville  Shelby  and  Anna  Boswell. 
He  was  an  officer  in  the  American  Revolution,  born 
near  Hagerstown,  Maryland,  December  11,  1750;  re- 
moved to  the  West  in  1771.  When  the  Revolution  was 
born  of  the  patriotic  ardor  of  the  Colonists,  Lieutenant 
Shelby  became  captain  of  a military  company  in  Vir 
ginia.  In  1779  he  was  elected  to  the  House  of  Delegates 
of  Virginia,  receiving  about  the  same  time  a major's 
commission.  In  17S0  Isaac  Shelby  was  made  a colonel. 

At  the  battle  of  King’s  Mountain,  on  October  7, 
1780,  he  showed  conspicuous  bravery  and  received  a 
vote  of  thanks  and  a sword  from  the  Korth  Carolina 
Legislature,  of  which  he  became  a member  in  1781  and 
1782.  In  1781  he  served  in  Marion’s  campaign. 

The  State  of  Kentucky  was  organized  in  1792  and 
Colonel  Isaac  Shelby  was  chosen  its  first  governor. 
This  ofQce  he  held  for  four  years,  during  his  first  in- 
cumbency; then,  after  an  interim  of  sixteen  years,  was 
elected  governor  in  1812,  serving  another  term  of  four 
years.  In  1813,  while  governor  of  Kentucky,  he  joined 
General  William  Henry  Harrison  with  four  thousand 
Kentuckians  in  his  command.  At  the  battle  of  the 
Thames  the  Shelby  command  won  the  admiration  of 


334 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISS0VK1AN8. 


the  entire  nation,  and  Congress  voted  a gold  medal  to 
Governor  Shelby  for  his  bravery  and  skill  in  leader- 
ship. He  died  in  Lincoln  Comity,  Kentucky,  July  IS, 
182(). 

Orville  Shell)}-,  the  father  of  Joseph  Orville,  lived 
but  a few  years  after  his  marriage,  dying  in  1835,  leav- 
ing a widow  with  one  son,  who  afterward  became  the 
famous  leader  in  the  Trans-Mississippi  Confederacy. 
Mrs.  Shelby  was  a talented  woman  and  a favorite  in  the 
family.  Her  sou  was  an  active,  interesting,  and  bright 
boy. 

The  daughter  of  Colonel  Gist  who  married  Ben- 
jamin Gratz  died  a shoii  time  after  the  death  of  Orville 
Shelby.  Mr.  Gratz  later  married  his  first  wife’s  niece, 
the  widow  of  Orville  Shelby  and  the  mother  of  the 
General. 

Francis  Preston  Blair,  senior,  who  married  the 
youngest  of  the  Gist  sisters  and  who  was  the  uncle  of 
General  Shelby’s  mother,  was  an  illustrious  American 
journalist,  born  at  Abingdon,  Washington  County,  Vir- 
ginia, Ajjril  12,  1791.  His  father,  James  Blair,  after- 
ward attorney-general  of  Kentucky,  removed  to  that 
State  about  1800..  The  son  was  graduated  from  Tran- 
sylvania University  in  Lexington  and  prepared  for  the 
legal  profession. 

Early  in  the  administration  of  Andrew  Jackson,  at 
the  height  of  the  historic  fight  for  the  United  States 
Bank,  Blair  wrote  an  anonymous  article  in  the  Frank 


JOl^EPri  0.  SHELBY. 


335 


foti  (Keiitiirkv)  Argus,  coiicerniug  t he  {H)1itical  issues  of 
the  time.  Jackson  saw  the  article  and  sought  out  the 
man  wlio  wrote  it.  jdacing  him  in  charge  of  .the  Ad- 
ministration organ  at  Washington,  in  which  cajtacitv 
Itlair  reached  extensive  fame  as  a journalist.  Francis 
Preston  Blair,  junior,  is  tlie  son  of  the  famous  Jackson- 
ian editor  li_v  his  union  with  ]\Iiss  Gist. 

Much  of  the  early  life  of  young  Blair  was  spent 
under  the  roof  of  Benjamin  Gratz  in  Lexington,  where 
Benjamin  Gratz  Brown  attended  school  and  Joe  Shelby 
spent  the  greater  part  of  his  minor  years.  The  three 
cousins,  though  apart  in  age,  became  closest  friends 
and  comjianions. 

In  addition  to  the  ties  of  kinship  which  make  Blair, 
Brown, and  Joe  Shelby  related  through  Shelby’s  mother, 
Mrs.  Gratz,  there  were  other  connections  which  made 
the  relationship  closer.  Francis  Preston  Blair,  the 
elder,  and  Mason  Brown,  father  of  Gratz  Brown  and 
uncle  of  General  Shelby’s  mother,  were  kinsmen  them- 
selves, being  descendants  of  John  Preston,  of  Augusta 
County,  Virginia. 

John  Preston  is  the  patrician  source  from  which 
came  the  families  of  the  Prestons,  Breckinridges,  Mar- 
shalls, Blairs,  Browns,  Hamptons,  and  certain  other 
families  constituting  the  essence  of  Kentucky’s  aristoc- 
racy of  brains,  valor,  and  blood.  The  wife  of  Thomas 
Hart  Benton  was  a McDowell  , a granddaughtt  r of 
John  Preston. 

^22— 


336 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MISSOURIANS. 


Tlioiiias  Hai-t  Benton  liimself  was  descended  from 
(he  kinsmen  of  Governor  Shelby  and  General  Shelby's 
father.  The  wife  of  the  first  governor  of  Kentucky  was 
of  the  family  of  Harts,  whose  relationship  to  Benton  is 
immortalized  in  the  illustrious  senator’s  given  name. 

Thus,  through  a dozen  channels,  Benton,  Brown, 
Blair,  and  Shelby  received  the  same  rich  blood  from  the 
same  high  sources  and  were  related  in  a way  of  more 
than  ordinary  historic  interest. 

Benjamin  Gratz,  who  married  the  widow  of  Orville 
Shelby,  was  a man  of  exceptionally  high  character  and 
of  considerable  wealth.  He  and  his  first  wife  were 
foster-parents  of  Mrs.  (Mason  Brown,  who  gave  to  her 
only  son  the  name  of  Benjamin  Gratz,  which  was  car- 
ried by  him  into  the  most  exciting  periods  of  American 
history. 

Francis  Preston  Blair  had  his  Kentucky  home  in 
Frankfort,  and  Mason  Brown  resided  there  for  years, 
and  their  families  were  on  the  most  intimate  tenns. 

Joseph  Orville  Shelby  was  born  in  Lexington,  Ken- 
tucky, December  12,  1830,  his  parents  having  family 
origins  as  stated.  He  lost  his  father  at  the  age  of  five, 
and  three  years  later,  after  the  marriage  of  his  widowed 
mother  to  Mr.  Gratz,  in  1838,  he  went  to  live  at  the 
home  of  his  step-father,  whose  many  kindnesses  to  him 
were  received  gratefully  and  borne  in  mind  through 
life.  While  here  he  received  his  education  at  the  Tran- 
sylvania University,,  which  has  a place  of  its  own  in 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


337 


Kentucky  biography  and  history,  a position  shared  by 
few  educational  institutions  in  the  far-famed  Bluegrass 
Htate. 

General  Shelby  in  his  yonth  was  thrown  with  a 
group  of  young  men  whose  names  are  household  words 
in  their  own  State  and  many  of  them  familiar  in  the 
nation.  The  influence  arising  from  the  constant  influx 
of  intellectual  youth  from  the  old  family  mansions  of 
iKentucky  pouring  in  upon  Transylvania  University 
assisted  materially  in  the  developing  of  Joseph  Orville 
Shelby,  whose  intrepid  spirit  had  its  source  in  youth, 
whose  valor,  later  sacrificed  upon  the  altar  of  an  un- 
kind fate,  was  tutored  here,  and  whose  life  was  spent 
in  the  most  studious  devotion  to  the  chivalrous  and 
honorable  principles  taught  by  associations  in  Lexing- 
ton from  1834  or  ’35  to  1854  or  ’55. 

John  C.  Breckinridge,  James  S.  Beck,  afterwards 
in  the  United  States  Senate,  Samuel  M.  Breckinridge, 
General  James  S.  Jackson,  General  John  H.  Morgan, 
and  scores  more  of  the  flower  of  ante-bellum  Kentucky 
youth  were  the  school-mates  and  associates  of  Joseph 
Shelby. 

By  nature,  in  boyhood  and  in  youth,  Joseph  Shelby 
was  bright  and  shrewd.  He  was  a manly  young  fellow, 
full  of  life  and  activity,  and  the  pride  of  the  cultured 
household  of  the  wealthy  manufacturer  wherein  he 
lived  for  so  many  years.  He  was  brave  and  intrepid, 
fearless  and  the  perfect  soul  of  honor,  vivacious,  yet 


338 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


always  courteous.  He  was  nine  j’ears  the  junior  of 
Frank  Blair  and  four  years  younger  than  Gratz  Brown, 
hut  was  thrown  with  them  very  much. 

The  elder  Blair,  at  the  time  of  Shelby’s  early  man- 
hood, was  passing  from  active  control  of  the  Adminis 
i ration  organ  at  Washington,  and  his  son  was  spending 
a great  deal  of  his  time  in  Lexiugton  with  his  cousin  in 
the  Gratz  home.  He  had  attended  Transylvania  Uni- 
versity and  lived  at  the  Gratz  mansion.  He  was,  about 
the  time  of  Shelby’s  approach  to  the  age  of  fifteen,  a 
student  at  Princeton  and  one  of  the  finest  examples  of 
young  manhood  in  Fayette  County.  Then  it  was, 
though  young  Joe  was  behind  Blair  in  his  classes  and 
in  years,  that  they  formed  a friendship  which  spanned 
battle-fields,  political  differences,  and  the  Civil  War, 
closing  only  in  death. 

The  life  of  Frank  Blair  began  in  Lexington,  Ken- 
tucky, February  19,  1821.  It  was  not  long  after  he 
reached  an  age  in  which  he  began  to  retain  the  impres 
sions  of  environment  that  his  father  was  made  editor  of 
the  \A"ashington  organ  of  the  great  Andrew  Jackson, 
and  the  youthful  Frank  Blair  was  honored  with  the  at- 
tentions of  one  of  the  world’s  most  popular  and  famous 
rulers.  He  received  much  of  his  schooling  in  Washing- 
ton, profiting  in  the  later  days  of  his  earl}"  manhood  by 
his  father’s  intimate  friendship  with  Thomas  Hart  Ben- 
ton, whose  relationship  to  the  family  has  been  men- 
tioned. Young  Blair  was  a splendid  specimen  of  young 


JOHEPIJ  ().  EJIBIJiy. 


339 


mauliood  when  he  became  a S'tudent  at  Lexington  and 
the  associate  of  Joe  Shelby.  He  was  tall,  lithe,  hand- 
some, courageous,  courteous,  and  true  to  every  duty. 

From  Frank  Blair,  Joe  Shelby  received  many  favors 
in  the  days  through  which  he  struggled  for  an  educa- 
tion. From  Blair’s  manliness  the  younger  man  re- 
ceived an  inspiration  under  which  he  grew  to  a fully 
developed  manhood  of  the  highest  order.  Mrs.  Gratz, 
his  mother,  was  a woman  whose  character  drew  to  her 
the  conlidences  and  love  of  such  young  men  as  Blair 
and  Brown;  hence  their  sojourns  in  Lexington  were 
frequent.  Gratz  Brown’s  parents  lived  in  Frankfort, 
but  a large  portion  of  his  time  was  spent  in  Lexington. 

Gratz  Brown  was  born  in  Lexington,  May  28,  1820, 
and  was  educated  there.  He  was  closely  associated 
with  Shelby  and  was  perhaps  his  most  intimate  friend, 
with  the  possible  exception  of  George  G.  Vest,  with 
whom  young  Shelby  Avas  thrown  very  much  during 
^ est’s  school  days  at  Transylvania  University. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen,  Joseph  Shelby  entered  Ti-an- 
sylvania  Lmiversity,  remaining  there  for  three  years, 
then  entering  college  at  Philadelphia,  Pennsylvania, 
he  was  graduated  there,  at  the  age  of  nineteen. 

Returning  to  Kentucky,  he  spent  three  years  in  Lex- 
ington and  acquired  a knowledge  of  the  manufacturing 
of  hemp  which  served  him  well  in  Missouri  after  his  re- 
moval from  his  native  State.  Under  his  uncle  he  de- 
veloped a good  business  judgment,  Avhich  aided  him  in 


340 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


building  up  a fortune  of  no  small  proportions  for  its 
lime,  alihougb  it  was  swept  away  by  the  war,  and  was 
never  recuperated. 

Frank  Blair  had  Tenioved  to  Missouri  through  the 
influence  of  Senator  Benton,  his  father’s  close  friend 
and  kinsman.  He  had  located  in  St.  Louis,  and  when 
the  Mexican  War  came  on,  served  in  Alexander  W. 
Doniphan's  heroic  regiment  of  Missourians.  In  1862 
he  was  elected  to  the  Missouri  Legislature.  Gratz 
Brown  had  also  removed  to  St.  Louis  about  the  time  of 
his  cousin's  removal.  In  1852,  like  Blair,  he  was  sent 
to  the  Missouri  House  of  Rej>re^entatives,  both  serving 
the  city  of  St.  Louis  in  the  Missouri  General  Assembly. 

Joseph  Shelby  was  interested  in  Missouri,  although 
his  ambitious  were  not  professional.  In  1852,  the  year 
of  his  elder  cousins’  election  to  the  legislature,  he  re- 
moved to  Lafayette  County,  Missouri,  and  began  the 
manufacture  of  hemp  at  Berlin. 

Here  he  met  his  future  wife,  Elizabeth  N.  Shelby, 
daughter  of  William  Shelby,  of  another  branch  of  the 
old  Shelby  family,  and  distantly  related  to  the  descend- 
ants of  Governor  Shelby. 

William  Shelby  himself  was  also  a native  of  Ken- 
tucky, who  had  removed  to  Missouri  in  1838  and  had 
entered  Government  lands.  William  Shelby,  along  in 
the  fifties,  was  the  owner  of  considerable  land  in  west- 
ern and  central  Missouri.  He  married  Miss  Elizabeth 
Barnett,  of  Kentucky,  in  1839.  His  settlement  in  La- 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


341 


fayette  County  was  one  of  the  earliest  made  in  the 
county,  and  to  the  present  time  the  Shelby  family  of 
Lafaj'ette  County  has  had  prominence  as  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  thrifty  families  in  the  State. 

Joseph  Shelby  was  married  at  ’Waverly,  Missouri,  in 
1858.  Elizabeth  X.  Shelby,  his  wife,  made  a faithful 
companion,  even  during'  the  terrible  days  of  war  when 
private  property  was  confiscated,  private  pai>ers  and 
possessions  destroyed  and  personal  life  and  liberty  con- 
stantly endangered.  She  stood  with  him  in  dreary 
camps  in  obscure  places  in  the  Arkansas  and  southern 
Missouri  mountains,  suffered  banishment  from  the  place 
of  her  nativity,  Lafayette  County,  Missouri,  because  of 
her  husband’s  prominence  in  the  Confederate  cause,  and 
at  last  followed  him  to  Mexico  with  his  forlorn  hope 
and  straggling  band  of  hero-soldiers  of  fortune,  after 
the  struggles  of  the  Civil  War  had  broken  the  fortunes 
of  their  loved  Confederacy. 

The  proximity  of  Lafayette  County  to  Kansas  made 
its  ijeople  intensely  interested  in  the  border  struggles, 
and  the  fact  that  the  district  was  populated  chiefly  by 
Kentuckians  and  slave-holders  occasioned  many  sharp 
controversies  with  the  free-State  champions  across  the 
line  in  Kansas.  For  six  or  eight  years  before  the  out- 
break of  the  war,  these  western  Missouri  farmers  and 
the  early  settlers  of  Kansas  carried  on  a civil  war  of 
their  own.  Shelby  was  soon  plunged  into  the  center  of 
these  controversies,  his  full  sympathies  being  with  his 


342 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI AH8. 


neighbors,  so  when  border  troubles  broke  out,  about  the 
time  he  had  built  ui>  a lucrative  business  in  Missouri, 
he  left  it,  went  to  Kentucky,  and  raised  a military  com- 
pany for  service  in  “bleeding  Kansas,”  in  support  of 
the  Southern  side  of  the  controversies  current  along  the 
border.  With  characteristic  dash  and  daring  his  first 
military  exploits  were  carried  out,  with  the  result  of 
rendering  considerable  aid  to  the  pro-slavery  settlers. 
The  storm  reached  a lull,  however,  and  his  men  retrrncd 
to  their  Kentucky  homes,  their  commander  to  his  ropi* 
factory  in  Lafayette  County,  Missouri. 

The  advance  of  the  tide  of  rebellion  and  sectional 
disagreement  found  the  future  major-general  of  the 
Confederacy  engaged  in  hard  work  in  his  rope  factory 
in  Lafayette  County,  Missouri,  near  the  little  town  of 
Waverly.  After  various  ebbs  and  fiows  of  his  fortune, 
he  had  become  an  extensive  slave-holder  and  land 
owner  and  was  commonly  accounted  one  of  the  wealthi- 
est men  in  the  community. 

When  the  campaign  of  1860  brought  the  issues  to 
division  point,  its  passing  bringing  into  plain  view  the 
premonitory  symptoms  of  an  internecine  struggle,  Mis- 
souri was  stirred  from  center  to  circumference.  It 
had  two  ditferent  elements  within  its  borders,  so  con- 
stant changes  in  matters  political  were  had.  iMass 
meetings  in  a number  of  counties  in  the  State  had  en- 
dorsed secession,  in  the  event  of  action  of  the  South. 
The  Legislature  met  and  struggled  with  the  question 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


343 


brouglit  to  a personal  issue.  There  was  a vacancy  en- 
suing in  the  United  States  Senate,  which  the  Legis- 
lature, divided  in  its  ideas  upon  the  questions  of  the 
period,  was  striving  to  fill.  James  S.  Green,  the  in- 
cumbent, was  believed  to  be  an  aialent  Secessionist,  so, 
to  satisfy  the  objections  of  the  Union  men  within  the 
Missouri  Legislature,  Green  was  I'etired,  and  W/ildo  P. 
-Johnson  elected  in  his  stead. 

Francis  Preston  Blair,  the  cousin  of  Shelby,  was 
preaching  the  doctrine  of  freedom  in  the  streets  and 
halls  of  St.  Louis,  slowly,  deliberately,  but  effectively 
organizing  the  forces  of  the  Union,  gathering  converts 
every  day.  Blair's  invincible  wisdom  gathered  thou- 
sands of  Union  men  about  the  national  flag  in  Mis.souri’s 
largest  city.  IMass  meetings,  grown  into  lai'ge  propor- 
tions, expressed  strong  Union  sentiments.  The  spiiit 
of  the  Southern  .sympathizer  in  Missouri  was  rapidly 
being  overawed  by  the  strength  of  Blair's  organiza- 
tion. From  St.  Louis  went  out  over  the  enlire  State 
encouragement  to  the  Union  men,  so  that  at  an  early 
period,  though  Southern  men  plainly  outnumbered  the 
Unionists  of  the  State,  it  was  almost  a settled  fact  tlia  r 
Missouri  would  remain  to  be  a part  of  the  National 
ITiiion. 

In  a few  weeks  Charleston’s  harbor  resounded  with 
the  roar  of  the  cannon  levelled  at  Fort  Sumter,  and, 
with  the  subsequent  fall  of  the  latter  stronghold,  men 
with  impetuous  spirits  in  all  parts  of  the  country  rushed 


344 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


to  arms.  The  clamor  for  revenge  for  an  insulted  flag 
and  for  the  rehabilitation  of  a disrupted  Union  was  met 
on  the  other  hand  by  all  the  fury  slowly-kindled  hatred 
could  develop.  The  independence  of  the  Southern 
States  was  the  fond  dream  of  the  people  who  made  iip 
the  Confederacy. 

Frank  Blair  telegrajdied  to  Shelby,  his  brave  and 
fearless  cousin,  asking  him  to  come  to  St.  Louis. 
Shelby  went  and  scornfully  refused  a commission  in  the 
Federal  Army,  severing  for  a season  the  fond  relations 
formed  in  earlier  years  in  Lexington.  He  returned  to 
Lafayette  County,  fired  with  the  military  ardor  of  three 
generations,  and  gathered  around  him  a company  of 
cavalry  composed  of  western  Missouri  farmers.  They 
were  soon  mounted,  armed,  uniformed,  and  on  the 
march  toward  Independence,  Jackson  County,  which 
was  just  then  threatened  with  a Federal  assault.  Here 
('ai)tain  Shelby  and  his  company  cooperated  with  the 
State  troops.  A general  engagement  failed  to  ensue, 
so  Shelby’s  troops  were  camped  at  Lexington  to  await 
the  advance  of  General  Price. 

Meanwhile  Jefferson  Citj’,  the  State  capital,  was 
evacuated  by  the  State  Government  and  occupied  by 
General  Lyon,  who  had  been  making  progress  up  the 
IMissoui'i  River  with  a well-organized  army  of  Fedei-al 
Iroops.  Governor  Jackson  halted  at  Boonville,  in 
Cooper  County,  w'here  a few  days  later  the  Confederate 
forces  suffered  losses. 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


345 


The  troops  gathered  at  Lexington  were  directed  by 
General  Price  to  inarch  southward  to  meet  and  succor, 
if  possible,  the  forces  of  General  McCnllogh,  who  was 
proceeding  from  the  central  portion  of  Arkansas  north 
to  Missouri.  This  moyement  of  the  Missouri  troops 
was  the  first  step  toward  an  active  alliance  with  the 
cause  of  the  Confederacy. 

Moving  rapidl}'  to  the  south,  Price’s  army  was  pur- 
sued by  Generals  Sturgis  and  Sigel.  An  encounter 
occurred  near  Carthage,  when  the  Federal  troops  ap 
proached.  Captain  Shelby’s  troops  were  in  the  van 
and  received  the  first  fire  of  the  opposing  army  early  in 
the  morning  just  after  the  troops  discovered  their  close 
proximity  to  each  other.  Shelby’s  command  of  La- 
fayette County  farmers  was  thus  the  first  to  receive 
Federal  fire  in  Missouri  in  the  summer  of  1861.  The 
encounter  resulted  in  about  an  equal  loss,  the  Missouri 
troops  marched  to  Cowskiu  Prairie,  when  they  were 
halted  to  prepare  for  a decisive  struggle  with  theii- 
pursuers. 

While  Price’s  army  was  thus  engaged  at  Cowskiu 
Prairie,  Captain  Shelby  returned  to  Lafayette  County 
to  recruit  a regiment. 


CHAPTER  II. 


SHEI.BY'S  lIEROLSiM  IN  AN  EART.Y  ENGAGE- 
IMENT.— IIIH  FAMOUS  MA ROHES.— HIS 
HRIGADE’S  OATEI.— BATTLE  OF 
CANE  HILL.— 1801  -1802. 

Iipou  I'ol  iiniiiij;'  to  Lafjiyettt*  County,  Captain 
Shelliy  lound  that  Iho  Fedeial  stitnij-th  made  it  difiicult 
to  organize  a regiment,  hut  with  ids  liundred  men  he 
juooeeded  to  annoy  the  enemy  as  mucli  as  possible. 
About  this  tiine  he  received  word  of  the  murder  of  a 
personal  friend  in  Lexington,  on  board  a gunboat, 
where  a number  of  i)rivate  citizens  were  detained  and 
treated  as  t)ilsoners  of  war.  Fired  by  what  he  thought 
an  insult,  but  more  so  l)y  tlie  agony  of  the  widow  and 
the  sudden  orphanage  of  her  infant  children,  he  hastily 
equipped  a lieutenant  with  a flag  of  truce,  improvised 
from  a soiled  handkerchief  tied  to  a green  pawpaw 
jiole  cut  from  his  ambuscade,  a note  to  tlie  Federal  of- 
ficer comanding,  and  a guard  of  foui-,  all  that  could  be 
s])ared  from  his  company.  The  lieutenant  departed  on 
his  mission,  concerning  Avhich  he,  now  a resident  of 
Lexington,  Kentucky,  recently  said:  ‘T  reached  Lex- 
ington, Missom  i,  at  dark,  and  was  held  while  Captain 
Shelb^^’s  note  was  delivered,  which  ran  like  this  at  the 
close:  ‘If  Mr. -was  murdered,  as  I am  informed, 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


347 


in  the  name  of  hit  bleeding  eountiy,  the  widow  and  her 
helpless  orphans,  I demand  retributive  justice;  if  I 
have  to  storm  the  city  and  retaliate  on  your  army.’  A 
satisfactory  answer  was  sent;  but  I also  learned  that 
the  lieutenant-colonel  said  he  would  run  Shelby  out  of 
the  country.”  The  attempt  to  “run  Shelby  out  of  the 
country”  was  made  the  next  day.  In  the  contest  which 
ensued  some  of  the  most  interesting  incidents  in 
Shelby’s  early  military  career  took  place.  An  eye- 
witness of  the  snbse(iuent  events  gives  the  following 
account : 

‘‘The  little  camp  not  far  from  my  gate  slept  peace- 
fully that  night;  when  at  daybreak  three  boats  dropped 
noiselessly  down  from  Lexington  to  the  mouth  of  Tab 
bo,  a small  tributary  to  the  Missouri,  famous  for  the 
burning  of  its  bridges  by  General  Price,  and  the  en- 
trenchments built  by  Shelby,  which  for  a long  time,  re- 
strained the  invaders  and  protected  the  farmers  there- 
about, enabling  them  to  sustain  their  families.  The 
boom  of  cannon  awakened  the  camp  and  alarmed  the 
sleeping  inhabitants  of  the  country.  The  young  cap- 
tain’s first  order  was  to  a courier  (a  beardless  lieuten- 
ant in  the  Mexican  AVar,  a private  in  this  engagement, 
and  subsequently  a major  in  Morgan’s  raid).  ‘Warn 
the  women  and  children,’  came  Shelby's  stentorian 
command.  Like  a great  funeral  train  at  John  Gilpin 
speed,  they  came  pouring  along,  screaming  and  crying 
at  what  they  did  not  understand,  no  warning  having 


348 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


hoeii  given,  and  the  shells  falling  everywhere  bnt  in  the 
(•amp,  some  very  near  my  feet,  rolling  off  in  the  long 
blnegrass.  Shelby  came  dashing  down  the  main  road 
at  thahead  of  his  slender  column,  firing  and  retreating 
as  they  came,  until  a x>lace  of  momentary  safety  was 
reached.  The  hill  just  left,  ox^posite  his  camp,  was  in  a 
moment  covered  with  bluecoats;  the  road  to  the  river 
lined  nxj  with  glittering  bayonets,  which  could  have  sur- 
rounded and  annihilated  him  and  his  undaunted  boys. 
The  stars  and  stripes  waved  there;  but  here,  on  a chest- 
nut sorrel,  his  favorite  courser,  sat  the  young  captain, 
a Murat  in  soldierly  bearing,  a Kentuckian  in  horse- 
manship; and  while  his  long  black  plume  waved  in  the 
breeze,  it  was  like  the  second  scene  in  Byron’s  ‘Water- 
loo.’ ‘The  hurrying  to  and  fro,  the  gathering  tears  and 
tremblings  of  distress,’  had  just  passed  by  on  a living 
panorama.  At  this  hazardous  moment  a cry  was  heard. 
A belated  mother  with  two  helpless  babes  on  either 
arm  and  a faithful  servant  with  her  four  rushed  to 
Captain  Shelby  for  protection.  Forgetting  his  own 
X^eril,  with  one  glance  at  the  foe,  he  was  down  at  her 
side  in  a twinkling,  and,  stooping  to  disentangle  her 
(altered  morning  gown  from  his  sx)ur,  placed  her  in  the 
saddle,  against  her  weeping  protestations,  and,  bidding 
her  ride  for  her  life,  turned  to  the  frightened  negress 
and  provided  for  her  and  her  little  ones  in  a fleeing 
wagon.  The  lips  of  that  young  mother — one  of  Vir- 
ginia’s fairest  daughters— and  her  trusted  slave  are 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


349 


silent  now,  but  they  lived  to  bless  the  great  cavalry 
brigadier  and  tell  of  how  he  saved  them. 

‘•In  a few  hours  of  skirmishing  and  waiting,  the  reg- 
iment withdrew  from  that  gallant  field.  The  tables 
Avere  turned.  The  threat  of  the  Federal  officer  to  drive 
Shelby  from  the  country  was  rescinded.  The  gunboats 
swung  into  mid-stream,  and  to  the  sound  of  martial 
music  sailed  away,  shelling  the  couutiwsides  as  they 
steamed  along.” 

From  this  point  a minute  history  of  Shelby’s  mili- 
tary exploits  would  be  a complete  account  of  the  Civil 
'NVar  in  the  West.  Shelby  participated  in  the  main 
features  of  the  war  in  the  Trans-Mississippi  Division. 
After  recruiting  his  command,  he  dashed  rapidly  south- 
ward to  join  the  Confederate  forces,  then  advancing  on 
Oak  Hill.  General  McCullogh  was  moving  on  Spring- 
field,  then  occupied  by  General  Lyon,  General  Price 
ad\mncing  simultaneously  by  a different  road,  finally 
bivouacking  at  Wilson’s  Creek,  twelve  miles  from  the 
headquarters  of  the  enemy. 

The  ensuing  of  the  battle  of  Wilson’s  Creek  after 
the  advance  of  Price  and  McCullogh,  resulted  in  more 
bloodshed  than  in  anA"  other  battle  of  the  Trans-Missis- 
sippi Division.  With  severe  losses,  after  the  heroic 
death  of  General  Nathaniel  Lyon,  the  Federal  troops 
AA-ere  driA'en  back;  General  Price,  after  considerable  loss 
in  men  and  officers,  moving  to  Springfield.  General 
McCullogh  at  this  juncture  refused  to  assist  Price  in 


350 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


ail  (expedition  against  Northeni  Missouri.  From  that 
time  the  fortunes  of  the  Missouri  Confederate  army 
were  on  the  wane.  If  MeCullogh  had  advanced  north- 
ward, with  the  foi'ce  which  strove  so  valiantly  and  fear- 
lessly at  ^Vilson’s  Creek,  the  result  of  the  war  in  Mis 
souri  might  have  been  vastly  different. 

Captain  Shelby  was  ordered  about  this  time  to  jiro- 
ceed  to  his  home  in  Lafayette  County  and  renew'  efforts 
to  organize  and  equip  a regiment.  Upon  his  return  to 
the  Fortli,  Shelby  with  his  men  engaged  in  the  siege 
of  Lexington,  Missouri,  one  of  the  longest  contested 
struggles  betw'een  the  two  armies  in  Missouri,  resulting 
in  the  surrender  of  Colonel  Mulligan,  Federal,  to  a 
larger  host  wliich  overpowered  and  conquered  him. 

After  the  victory  at  Lexington,  General  Price  fell 
back  with  his  army  to  Springfield.  He  w'as  pursued  by 
General  Fremont,  who  wms  endeavoring  to  cut  off  com- 
munications of  Price  and  his  army  wdth  MeCullogh. 
The  course  of  the  Confederate  Army  from  Lexington 
south  was  therefore  a test  of  physical  strength;  the 
former  seeking  his  base;  the  latter,  wdth  a stronger 
force,  seeking  the  rear  of  his  enemy.  Shelby  wdth  his 
command  led  the  advancing  column  of  Price’s  army, 
leading  the  troops  one  of  those  dare-devil  marches  for 
wdiich  Shelby’s  men  became  famous  in  later  years,  w'ith 
an  energj'  and  activity  surpassed  by  few.  A halt  was 
had  at  Pineville,  below  Springfield,  when  Fremont  was 
relieved  by  Hunter.  Preparations  w'ere  made  for 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


351 


battle  ill  the  two  armies.  A struggle  resulted  in  the  re- 
juilsiiig  of  the  entire  Federal  Army,  so  Hunter,  with. 
Fremont,  retired,  leaving  Springtield  to  Price  with  the 
control  of  all  southwest  Missouri. 

Price  established  headquarters  at  Springfleld,  while 
Shelby  again  returned  to  Lafayette  Comity  and  re- 
sumed recruiting  forces  at  Lexington. 

The  winter  was  a rigid  one  and  its  cold  months  had 
but  few  periods  when  drilling  for  the  arduous  and 
blood}"  work  of  1862  was  possible.  It  was  during  these 
few  months  that  Shelby's  men  learned  the  full  meaning 
of  war  and  all  its  hardships,  particularly  the  hardships 
and  trials  of  the  warfare  in  which  they  were  engaged — 
war.  removed  from  the  vital  centers  of  military  activity, 
war  along  the  border  States  between  forces  constantly 
fluctuating  in  size  and  varying  in  spirits. 

It  was  in  this  rigorous  winter  of  1861-2  that  the 
American  people  realized  they  faced  a struggle  without 
early  end;  a civil  war  promising  one  of  the  greatest  and 
bloodiest  series  of  campaigns  known  in  military  history. 
It  was  passed  in  preparation  for  the  work  known  to 
lie  ahead.  In  the  West,  particularly,  was  this  true. 
Shelby  was  but  one  of  a great  number  of  captains 
engaged  in  recruiting  and  organizing. 

He  passed  the  greater  part  of  the  winter  in  Lexing- 
ton, being  menaced  at  fre(pient  intervals  by  General 
Pope's  men;  so,  with  one  of  those  exhausting  marches, 
conceived  by  Shelby's  daring  spirit,  his  men  rode  south 

—23— 


352 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


and  joined  Price,  then  leaving  Springfield.  The  con- 
junction was  formed  some  distance  north  of  the  Boston 
Mountains  in  Arkansas. 

General  Van  Dorn,  who  had  been  placed  in  com- 
mand of  the  Trans-Mississippi  Division  of  the  Confed- 
erate Army,  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  Price,  and  upon 
learning  that  the  Federal  troops  were  at  Elkhorn,  or 
what  later  became  known  as  the  battle-field  of  Pea 
Ridge,  McCullogh  and  Price  prepared  for  battle. 

On  the  fourth  of  March,  1862,  one  year  after  the  in- 
auguration of  President  Lincoln,  occurred  the  battle  v)f 
Pea  Ridge,  in  which  Shelby’s  company  was  hotly 
engaged.  The  day  opened  favorably  for  the  Confed- 
erates, but  closed  with  disaster.  General  Price,  on. real- 
izing the  effect  of  the  blow  administered  on  that  field, 
determined  to  cover  the  retreat  of  McCullogh  with  his 
own  army.  Captain  Shelby  was  given  a conspicuous 
position  in  Price’s  column.  To  Shelby’s  efforts  was 
largely  due  the  success  of  Price’s  attempt. 

At  this  period  Price  was  commissioned  a major- 
general;  and  upon  the  general  advance  to  Corinth, 
Shelby  with  his  men  followed  to  assist  in  meeting  the 
appeals  for  help  which  came  from  that  quarter.  Here 
his  men  served  under  the  balmy  Mississippi  skies,  with- 
out special  incident;  with  only  an  occasional  skirmish 
with  some  of  Halleck’s  command.  Shelby’s  company 
of  Missourians  were  first  placed  to  guard  an  approach 
to  the  rebel  lines  on  the  Tuscumbia  River;  then  was 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


353 


ordered  back  to  Corinth,  which  Beauregard  was  just 
evacuating,  driven  away  by  pestilence  and  disease. 

On  the  tenth  of  June,  1802,  Joe  Shelby’s  term  as  a 
captain  in  the  State  service  expired,  and  he  was  com- 
missioned to  raise  a cavalry  regiment  and  ordered  to 
return  to  Lafayette  County,  Missouri,  for  that  purpose. 
On  his  journey  homeward — a distance  of  one  thousand 
miles — dangers  beset  him  and  his  band  of  soldiers  on 
every  hand,  the  first  being  the  crossing  of  the  Missis- 
sippi at  a point  protected  by  Federal  gunboats  and 
Federal  forts.  Six  soldiers,  however,  were  sent  in  a 
skiff  over  the  river  just  above  Helena.  Arkansas,  with 
instructions  to  recounoiter,  enter  Helena,  and  seek  as 
sistance.  A few  hours  later,  under  cover  of  the  moon- 
light, the  entire  company  was  transported  over  the  river 
on  large  flatboats,  almost  within  range  of  the  Federal 
guns. 

The  Mississippi  crossed,  the  Shelby  company  spent 
several  weeks  in  the  interior  of  Arkansas.  The  battles 
of  St.  Charles  and  Duvall’s  Bluff  over,  Shelby  offered 
his  services  Jo  General  Rains,  located  a few  miles  below 
^^an  Buren,  who  was  then  engaged  in  organizing  an 
expedition  to  Missouri.  His  proffered  services  were  ac- 
cepted, and  as  soon  as  the  organization  was  completely 
equipped,  preparations  to  march  north  were  made. 
Before  starting,  Shelby  and  his  men  made  an  oath 
without  a parallel  in  the  annals  of  the  Rebellion.  They 
swore  by  all  that  was  good  and  holy  that  they  would 
never  lay  down  arms  until  the  war  was  ended,  and  to 


354 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


fight  for  the  Confederac}^  until  the  struggle  was  de- 
clared off,  no  matter,  it  was  stijmlated,  if  it  lasted 
twenty  years. 

Marching  north,  the  expedition  under  command  of 
Colonel  Cockrell  participated  in  the  battle  of  New- 
tonia,  advancing  thi“ough  the  intervening  counties  to 
Lone  Jack,  Jackson  County,  where,  on  the  sixteenth 
day  of  August,  1862,  occurred  the  battle  of  Lone  Jack. 

Captain  Bhelby  came  to  Dover  and  Waverly,  which 
latter  place  was  selected  as  his  recruiting  station. 
Ten  companies  were  organized,  and  in  two  days  one 
thousand  of  the  flower  of  Lafayette  County . manhood 
was  under  Shelby's  command.  With  his  raw  recruits, 
Shelby  proceeded  with  Cockrell  to  Arkansas,  as  usual 
leading  the  way  with  a march  extending,  without  a 
pause  for  rest  or  sleep,  from  the  Missouri  River  to  Jas- 
per Count;^'t  An  army  associate  of  Shelby,  one  of  those 
who  followed  him  through  many  a march,  once  said  of 
this  march  and  many  like  it;  “No  man  could  ride  with 
Shelby  for  four  years  as  I did  and  be  worth  his  salt 
afterwards.”  For  eight  days  this  expedition  marched 
without  sleep  or  rest,  pressing  forward  to  gain  Arkansas 
and  form  a junction  with  the  Confederate  Army  in  the 
South.  The  men  in  Shelby’s  command  were  fairly 
crazy  and  blinded  with  loss  of  sleep  and  test  of  energy 
when  the  first  rest  was  made  in  Jasper  County. 

“Shelby  was  never  tired,”  said  a soldier  who  fol- 
lowed him  on  this  march,  as  well  as  others.  “I  have 


.IOtUU‘11  ().  .SJlELBr. 


355 


known  him  more  than  once  to  be  in  the  saddle  twenty- 
tour  hours  straight,  and  at  the  close  he  would  dismount 
as  lightly  and  apijarentlj^  as  fresh  as  when  he  mounted. 
Nor  was  he  ever  sick.  I never  heard  of  him  taking 
medicine.  He  had  an  iron  nerve.  In  one  battle  he  was 
shot  through  the  wrist  with  a Minie-ball,  which  came 
out  near  the  elbow.  I was  with  him,  and  he  did  not 
even  draw  in  his  breath.” 

From  Coon  Creek,  in  Jasper  County,  the  command 
moved  to  Newtonia,  in  Xewton  County,  where  the  three 
regiments  that  had  marched  from  the  Missouri  River 
were  organized  into  a cavalry  brigade  under  the  com- 
mand of  Shelby,  Avho  was  then  commissioned  a colonel. 

The  hist  engagement  of  this  famous  brigade  was 
with  Colonel  Solliman's  German  troops  at  Xewtouia, 
which  resulted  disastrously  to  the  Federal  troops,  Solli- 
man  leaving  the  field  after  a loss  of  one  thousand  men. 
General  Schofield  had  not  anticipated  such  a result,  so 
he  proceeded  to  throw  his  entire  army  into  line  to  as- 
sault the  town  of  Xewtonia,  which  had  been  wrenched 
from  Solliman  by  Shelby’s  brigade.  Superior  numbers 
overpowered  the  gallant  cavalry,  so  a retreat  into  Ar- 
kansas followed. , The  next  camp  was  at  Cross  Hollows, 
in  northwestern  Arkansas. 

During  the  autumn  of  1802,  the  brigade  stayed 
around  Huntsville,  Arkansas,  awaiting  orders.  General 
Marmaduke  assumed  command  of  the  cavalry  in  the 
Trans-Mississippi  Division,  and  sent  orders  to  Shelby  to 


256 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI ATsS. 


advance  to  Van  Buren,  where  Marmaduke  was  expect- 
ing an  attack  from  the  Federal  Army.  Shelby  therc'- 
fore  left  winter  headcpiarters  and  joined  Marmaduke. 

Orders  came  to  advance,  and  in  less  than  twenty 
minutes  after  marching  orders  came  from  Marmaduke, 
Shelby’s  brigade  was  in  motion,  but  the  enemy  halted 
five  miles  beyond  Marmaduke  and  no  engagement  was 
then  had.  The  brigade  then  went  into  camp  below  Van 
Buren. 

On  the  evening  of  November  17th  Colonel  Shelby 
took  his  command  toward  Cane  Hill.  The  march  was 
rapid,  but  General  Blunt  with  seven  thousand  Federal 
troops  pursued  closely.  The  fourth  day  after  reaching 
Cane  Hill,  Shelby  met  an  advancing  regiment  of  Fed- 
eral cavalry,  which  was  marching  northeast  from  Fort 
Smith  in  the  Fayetteville  road.  Stationing  men  along 
the  roadside,  a fiery  greeting  was  given  the  bluecoats 
by  Colonel  Shelby. 

Shelby  made  repeated  efforts  to  engage  the  outlying 
companies  of  Blunt’s  army,  which  then  lay  around 
Fayetteville,  but  did  not  succeed  in  securing  an  engage- 
ment until  Marmaduke  gave  orders  to  advance  upon 
Fayetteville.  This  advance  was  met  by  Blunt,  who 
moved  eight  thousand  men  to  meet  Marmaduke  on  De- 
cember 3d.  Shelby’s  brigade  and  all  of  Marmaduke’s 
men  lay  in  fighting  line  all  day  on  the  fourth,  but  Blunt 
did  not  come.  The  next  morning  the  blue-uniformed 
men  of  the  Third  Kansas  were  seen  in  the  distance 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


357 


among  the  trees  in  the  valley,  which  lay  below  Shelby’s 
position  on  the  summit  of  a hill.  Marmaduke,  hearing 
the  sound  of  Shelby’s  cannon,  moved  his  lines  at  a 
gallop  to  the  front,  while  Blunt’s  splendidly  equij>ped 
battle-array  came  on.  The  fight  was  opened  with 
Collins’  artillery,  and  for  an  hour  the  ordnance  was  in 
action.  Blunt  threw  a large  force  of  infantry  forward 
to  try  to  take  Shelby’s  position  on  the  hillside,  from 
which  death-dealing  fire  was  poured  steadily  into  the 
Federal  lines.  Marmaduke  saw  the  inadvisability  of 
contending  against  such  heavy  odds,  and  the  bugles 
sounded  retreat,  but  not  until  after  the  heroes  of 
Shelby’s  brigade  had  sent  the  lengthy  line  of  Federal 
infantry  three  times  down  the  hill  with  heavy  losses. 

Upon  the  orders  to  retreat,  Shelby  brought  into  play 
his  manner  of  fighting  on  a retreat  to  remarkable  ad- 
vantage. He  stationed  his  thirty  companies  at  thirty 
difterent  places  on  each  side  of  the  road  back  down  the 
hillside.  The  company  next  the  enemy  fired  at  point- 
blank  range,  formed  rapidly  in  column  and  galloped 
away,  leaving  still  formed  the  other  twenty-nine  com- 
panies, whose  duties  consisted  in  like  maneuvers,  sub- 
jecting the  enemy  to  a constant  hurricane  of  fire  in  their 
very  faces,  while  the  retreating  companies  had  ample 
time  to  reload  and  select  good  positions  further  on. 

The  fight  along  this  mountain  road  was  wonderfully 
illustrative  of  Shelby’s  military  genius  and  intrepidity. 
Blunt  threw  his  cavalry  in  waves  of  blue  upon  Shelby’s 


358 


FIVE  F AMOVE  MlEEOVRIAFfE. 


retreating  phalanx.  Up  the  road  stretched  another  hill- 
side, rugged,  bare,  and  pointed  at  the  summit,  around 
which  Shell)}'  placed  a regiment.  Here,  under  a blaz- 
ing sky,  the  onslaughts  of  Blunt’s  eight  thousand  men, 
directed  against  a brigade,  were  borne  with  heroism. 
The  blood  of  a brave  young  fallen  Confederate  spurted 
in  Shell)y’s  face  just  as  his  horse  fell.  Lingering  with 
the  company  farthest  to  the  rear  and  closest  to  the 
enemy,  Shelby  lost  his  second  horse,  while  his  uniform 
was  torn  with  flying  bullets  and  his  person  covered 
with  blood.  The  enemy  was  gaining  ground  and  the 
last  company  was  moving  forward  when  Shelby’s  third 
horse  fell.  The  peril  was  great,  but,  dashing  forward, 
his  command  was  reached  just  as  he  determined  to 
make  a last  stand. 

The  sun  had  been  obscured  all  day,  but  had  burst  in 
full  glory  just  as  the  brigade’s  fighting  line  was  flung 
around  the  hillside,  and  now  a cloud  passed  over  the 
full-orbed  light  and  the  heroic  brigade  swung  into  a 
mountain  gorge,  here  to  stand  or  die.  A torrent  of 
freezing  water  was  to  the  left,  a rugged  cliff  to  the 
right.  With  some  waist  deep  in  the  water,  others  high 
in  the  cliff,  the  approach  of  Blunt  was  awaited.  Fresh 
Federal  troops  poured  up  again  and  again,  but  Shelby 
held  the  gorge  until  night  came  on  just  as  his  fourth 
horse  fell  from  under  him.  Darkness  brought  a Fed- 
eral ofticer  with  a flag  of  truce. 


.K)f<F.PI{  O.  PJIELBT. 


359 


Advancing  under  the  truce,  General  Blunt  spoke  to 
^Mariuadnke  and  asked  him  'svliose  troops  had  fought 
him  that  day.  “Shelby's  brigade,”  came  the  reply. 
“How  did  these  men  behave  themselves'?"  “Behave'?” 
thundered  Blunt;  “they  behaved  not  like  men,  but  lik(“ 
devils.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  of  my  best  men  are 
dead,  hundreds  more  wounded.'’ 

This  instance  is  but  one  among  scores  that  have 
never  found  their  places  in  established  history,  yet 
few  are  the  evidences  of  gi‘eater  heroism  found  in  mili- 
tary annals. 

In  the  winter  months  during  which  Marmaduke  and 
Shelby  stayed  in  northwestern  Arkansas  the  engage- 
ments with  Blunt  were  of  almost  daily  occurrence. 
Later,  in  one  of  these  encounters  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Cane  Hill,  an  incident  occurred  which  has  been 
fixapiently  recalled. 

It  was  during  the  battle  of  Prairie  Grove;  Colonel 
Shelby  gave  orders  to  Major  Shanks  to  advance,  “to  at- 
tack anything  and  everything  in  sight,  charge  the 
moment  a blnecoat  is  seen,”  promising  to  support  him 
with  the  entire  brigade.  Away  dashed  Shanks,  meeting 
an  old  Xewtouia  antagonist.  Major  Hubbard,  and  the 
Third  Missouri  Infantry,  al)0ut  a mile  forward.  The 
fearless  cavalrymen  cai-ried  everything  before  them, 
routing  the  Federal  train  completely.  Shelby  followed, 
to  find  Shanks  closely  pursuing  the  enemy,  which  had 
scattered  through  the  woods  in  all  directions.  Shanks’ 


360 


FIVE  Fy\MOTJSl  ML^FOUFTANE. 


men  were  also  chasing  “bluecoats”  in  the  forest,  while 
Hhelby,  supiiosing  the  advance  guard  to  be  directly  in 
front,  rushed  forward  with  only  a few  of  his  staff  and 
two  guns.  Hubbard  quickly  gathered  a hundred  men 
and  rushed  upon  the  apparently  undefended  squad  of 
rebel  officers.  “Surrender!”  Hubbard  shouted  to  Shel- 
by;  “you  are  surrounded  and  overpowered.”  Shelby 
fell  back  out,  with  characteristic  coolness,  remem- 
bering Shanks’  proximity,  and  while  his  men  were 
engaged  with  Hubbard’s  in  hand-to-hand  encounters 
with  SAVords  and  sabers,  he  waited.  Hubbard  threw  a 
pistol  to  Shelby’s  forehead.  “Surrender!  do  you  hear? 
Surrender,  or  I fire.”  Shanks’  men  came  crashing 
fhrough  the  Avoods  in  the  distance.  “You  are  mis- 
taken,” coolly  answered  Shelby;  “it  is  you  who  are  my 
prisoner.  Call  off  your  men  and  listen  behind  you.” 
Hubbard  paled  as  rebel  cavalrymen  poured  in  around 
him.  “I  am  caught,”  he  said,  “nicely  caught,  and  here 
is  my  sword.  I only  ask  quarter  for  my  men.”  “Take 
back  dhat  sword.  Major,”  responded  Shelby;  “it  was 
neAmr  staimM  Avith  the  blood  of  the  helpless  around 
NeAvtonia.  I ahvays  respect  an  honorable  foe.” 


CHAPTER  III. 


HEROISM  AT  HELENA.— ASSAULT  ON  STEELE. 

—THE  LUCKLESS  RAID  OF  ’64.—  DEFEAT 
AT  WESTPORT.— NEWTONIA.— 
SURRENDER. 

The  battle  of  Prairie  Grove  continued  throughout  an 
entire  day,  its  fury  waning  only  after  the  sun  had  set. 
On  the  battle-field  that  frosty  night,  which  followed  a 
day  of  stirring  scenes,  Shelby’s  men  bivouacked  amid 
the  dead  and  dying  and  were  the  last  to  leave  the  scene 
of  bloodshed. 

December  31,  1862,  camp  at  Lewisburg,  Arkansas, 
was  broken  and  a dash  into  Missouri  began.  The  outer 
line  of  defenses  about  Springfield  was  captured  when 
Marmaduke  ordered  a return.  A dreadful  march 
through  snow  to  Batesville,  Arkansas,  followed  a bat- 
tle at  Hartville.  Batesville  reached,  a halt  was  made 
until  spring,  when  the  “Cape  Girardeau  expedition” 
was  organized. 

The  advance  upon  southeastern  Missouri  was  at 
tended  with  difficulties,  and  after  a long  series  of  skir- 
mishes about  Cape  Girardeau,  the  expedition  was  aban- 
doned for  the  famous  assault  upon  Helena.  This  last 
assault  was  one  of  the  hopes  that  the  Trans-Mississip- 
pi Confederacy  last  cherished,  for  it  involved  a plan  to 


362 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIAIfS. 


retain  Vicksburg  and  circumvent  one  of  the  most  dis- 
astrous events  of  the  Civil  War  to  the  Confederacy,  the 
loss  of  the  Mississippi  city.  It  was  planned  to  capture 
Helena  and  thus  interrupt  the  transportation  of  sup- 
plies to  Grant.  The  command  of  the  upper  Mississippi 
was  an  object. 

General  Holmes,  a graduate  of  West  Point  and  a 
favorite  of  Jefferson  Davis,  was  in  command  of  about 
8,000  men,  consisting  of  Fagan’s  Arkansas  brigade, 
Price’s  Missourians,  and  Marmaduke’s  cavalry,  compris- 
ing the  Shelby  brigade.  Holmes,  seeing  the  hopeless- 
ness of  success  in  the  engagements  about  Cape  Girard- 
eau, one  day  in  the  latter  part  of  June,  1863,  telegraphed 
to  his  superior  officers  that  he  believed  he  could  take 
Helena.  Immediately  authority  came  and  the  advance 
upon  the  river  town  was  begun. 

The  Confederates  outnumbered  the  Helena  garrison 
nearly  two  fold,  and  confidence  in  victory  prevailed  all 
through  the  Confederate  lines.  Helena  lies  on  the  river 
lowlands.  The  water  front  was  guarded  by  the  gunboat 
Tyler,  famous  at  Forts -Henry  and  Donelson.  On  the 
laud  side  there  was  an  unbroken  line  of  fortifications, 
extending  from  the  river  bank  above  the  town  to  tlu' 
bank  below.  The  city’s  western  front  was  about  a mile 
in  length.  Though  these  defenses  were  good,  the 
chances  were  with  the  Confederates  because  of  inex- 
perienced gnu  tiers  being  in  charge  of  the  Federal 
defenses. 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


368 


On  July  4, 1863,  while  Grant’s  soldiers  were  cheering 
victorious  “Old  Glory”  in  the  streets  of  Vicksburg,  the 
three  columns  of  cavalry.  Price’s,  Marmadnke’s,  and 
Fagan’s,  all  unconscious  of  the  events  on  the  lower 
river,  moved  against  the  fortifications  at  Helena. 

Attempts  were  made  to  bring  field  artillery,  but 
about  a mile  from  the  Federal  lines  deep  ravines  cut 
across  the  road  formed  almost  impassable  obstructions. 
The  men  were  comjjelled  to  dismount.  A gorge  inter- 
vened between  the  advancing  columns-  and  the  lines,  a 
steep  hillside  loomed  up  at  the  sides,  and  the  thickets 
and  trenches  were  alive  with  Federal  sharpshooters. 

■ A continuous  fire  ensued;  charge  after  charge  was 
made  and  several  outlying  pits  were  carried.  The  guns 
on  the  hills  soon  oj>ened  and  rebel  soldiers  began  to 
drop.  Price’s  line  marched  to  assault  Graveyard  Hill, 
while  Fagan  charged  Hindman’s  Hill,  which  was  cap- 
tured and  held  for  a time.  Shelby,  with  his  famous 
battery  of  Hying  artillery,  manned  by  Dick  Collins  and 
famed  along  the  border  for  the  spirit  with  which  it 
entered  a struggle,  moved  to  capture  Battery  A.  He 
found  the  road  barricaded,  so  Collins  cut  loose  the  teams 
and  the  gunners  hauled  the  pieces  by  hand  around  the 
obstructions.  Shelby  advanced  too  far  without  sup- 
port and  the  guns  from  a field  battery  opened  upon  him. 
A counter-charge  ensued  and  Shelby  was  wounded. 
The  horses  around  the  artillei’y  were  all  shot  down  and 
the  line  was  forced  to  retreat.  Shelby,  though  sustain- 


364 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIAFS. 


iiig  great  loss  of  blood  from  an  artery  severed  at  the 
wrist,  leaped  from  the  saddle  and  called  for  volunteers 
to  save  Collins’  guns.  “The  battery  is  in  danger!”  came 
the  cry  and  hundreds  of  troopers  turned  back.  Shelby 
shouted,  “Fifty,  only  fifty  I”  “Bring  the  battery  back  or 
remain  yourselves !”  Collins  and  his  men  fought  brave- 
ly, but  in  vain  for  some  time;  at  last  the  dead  horses 
were  cut  away,  ropes  attached,  and  the  guns  dragged 
safely  away.  Twenty  of  the  fifty  brave  volunteers  werc‘ 
left  dead  where  they  fell,  while  only  fifteen  of  the  re- 
maining number  escaped  unscathed. 

Repulsed  and  defeated,  Shelby  moved  back  to  Jack- 
sonport,  while  he  himself  went  into  the  care  of  a sur- 
geon at  Batesville. 

General  Holmes,  the  unfortunate  leader  in  the  dis- 
aster of  Helena,  moved  gloomily  away  from  the  scene 
of  his  army’s  defeat.  He  had  displayed  great  courage 
on  the  field,  but  had  reckoned  on  results  that  never 
came.  Shelby  was  not  altogether  in  sympathy  with 
his  associate  and  superior  officer,  but  entertained  high 
opinions  of  Holmes  in  his  conducting  of  certain  details 
of  the  army’s  affairs. 

Once  Holmes  sent  for  Shelby  and  said:  “Colonel, 

your  men  have  been  stealing  and  it  must  be  stopped. 
They  are  thieves.” 

“Sir,”  vociferated  Shelby,  resenting  vigorously  the 
general’s  offensive  language,  “whoever  told  you  so  lies.” 

“I  believe  it  is  true.” 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


365 


“Why?’’  asked  Shelby. 

“Because  everybody  says  so.” 

“Do  you  believe  a thing  when  everybody  says  so?” 

“I  do.” 

“Do  you  know  what  everybody  says  about  you?” 

“I  do  not;  what  do  they  say?” 

“They  say  you  are  a damned  old  fool.”  And  Shelby 
walked  away. 

The  battle  of  Helena  had  been  passed  some  time 
when  Shelby’s  brigade  was  ordered  to  proceed  to  Mis- 
souri on  the  famous  raid  of  1863,  the  most  renowned  of 
its  many  movements.  His  arm  in  a sling,  Joe  Shelby, 
at  the  head  of  his  determined  men,  dashed  fearlessly 
into  the  heart  of  Missouri,  fighting  and  cutting  their 
way  to  Boonville,  Jefferson  City  being  the  objective 
point.  Neosho,  Stockton,  Humansville  were  all  cap- 
tured, prisoners  taken,  and  munitions  of  war  secured. 
General  Brown,  however,  had  covered  Jefferson  City 
with  8,000  men  and  it  was  sheer  madness  to  attempt  to 
capture  it,  so  Shelby  marched  to  Marshall  and  then 
back  into  Arkansas. 

During  the  spring  of  1864,  after  spending  the  winter 
in  quarters  at  Camden,  Ark.,  numerous  battles  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  State  were  participated  in  by 
Shelby  and  his  men. 

On  the  3d  of  March,  1864,  Shelby  was  ordered  north 
of  Washita  River  to  garrison  Princeton,  hold  this  line  of 
the  Saline  River,  cover  all  roads  leading  into  Camden, 
and  annoy  the  enemy  in  every  way  conceivable. 


366 


FIVE  FAMOVS  MISSOURI AF! 8. 


Two  large  armies  were  then  gatliering  and  march- 
ing simnltaneouslj  on  Shreveport,  Banks’  and  Steele’s: 
the  tirst  the  larger,  the  lattei'  the  better  equipped,  one 
moving  by  the  Red  River,  the  other  by  land  upon 
Camden.  The  Trans-Mississippi  Department  of  the 
Confederacy  was  never  in  greater  danger.  Both  of 
these  armies  had  to  be  driven  back  or  disaster  would 
follow.  The  infantry  was  sent  to  harass  Banks,  the 
cavalry  advancing  to  interfere  with  Steele,  until  the 
great  battle  lines  along  the  Red  River  should  be  drawn. 
Here  ensued  an  incident  in  which  Shelby  illustrated  his 
daring  in  a conspicuous  way. 

Steele  had  fifteen  thousand  men  and  Shelby  a thou 
sand,  yet  the  latter  prepared  to  give  battle  to  the  for- 
mer ! The  vast  command  under  Steele  crossed  the  river 
at  Arkadelphia,  Shelby,  eight  miles  below,  sending  a 
scouting  party  to  the  front  and  capturing  two  cavalry 
companies  in  Steele’s  rear  guard,  officers,  horses,  men, 
and  all. 

At  this  point,  in  the  midst  of  his  preparations  to  en- 
gage a host  fifteen  times  larger  than  his  own,  he  re- 
ceived notice  that  the  Confederate  Congress  had  con- 
firmed his  appointment  as  brigadier  general.  His 
preparatiohs  for  battle  were  not  deterred  in  the  least, 
and  about  sunset  one  night  orders  were  issm  d for  tlie 
brigade  to  move  at  moonrise — midnight  exac'ly.  Shel 
by’s  ordeis  were  giv'en  thus: 


J08EPR  0.  SHELBY. 


367 


“Soldiers  of  Shelby’s  Brigade:  You  march  in  four 

hours  to  attack  the  enemy.  He  is  strong,  well  equipped, 
and  not  dehcient  in  courage,  but  I intend  that  you  shall 
ride  down  his  infantry  and  scatter  his  battalions  by  the 
splendor  of  your  charge.  You  have  just  four  hours  in 
which  to  say  your  prayers,  make  your  needful  prepara- 
tions, and  nerve  your  hearts  for  the  onset.  It  will  be 
desperate,  because  you  are  brave;  bloody,  because  you 
are  reckless  and  tenacious;  because  I am  to-day  a briga- 
dier general.  I have  told  you  often  about  our  homes, 
our  country,  and  our  glorious  cause.  To-day  I simi)ly 
appeal  to  your  ambition,  your  fame,  your  spotless  repn- 
tation,  and  your  eternal  renown.” 

This  stirring  aj)peal  did  not  fail  to  arouse  the  great- 
est courage  possible  in  the  brigade.  Early  in  the  morn- 
ing the  battle  began.  A veteran  of  Steele’s  command 
once  said:  “Shelby  made  them  attack  the  rear  of 

Steele’s  army  of  15,000  men — only  a thousand  of  them, 
yet  they  charged  like  they  had  been  the  vanguard  of  au 
army  of  thirty  thousand.  We  drove  them  back,  it  is 
true,  but  they  charged  again;  we  drove  them  back  and 
they  charged  again;  we  drove  them  l)ack  and  they 
charged  again;  and  thus  they  charged  unlil  night  put  an 
end  to  the  remarkalde  contest.” 


In  the  summer  of  1804,  the  Department  of  the  West 
in  the  Confederate  Army  determined  to  make  a second 

assault  upon  Missouri,  seeking  thereby  to  divert  at- 
—24— 


368 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


teution  from  the  activity  in  the  East  and  force  Grant  to 
pay  more  attention  to  the  West  by  harassing  the  Feder 
at  outposts  and  strongholds  in  Missouri.  It  was  also 
thought  that  recruits  numbering  thousands  would  be 
gathered  around  the  wavering  banner  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy  in  Missouri,  which  would  create  an  upris- 
ing in  the  State,  capture  St.  Louis,  then  move  east 
through  Illinois,  Ohio,  Kentucky,  and  then  to  the  relief 
of  Richmond.  Various  agencies  were  emjdoyed  to  ac- 
complish these  ends,  no  little  dependence  being  placed 
by  Price  and  Marmaduke  in  the  secret  society  known  as 
the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle. 

For  these  people  “Fighting  Jo”  Shelby,  with  his 
Iron  Brigade,  had  no  use.  They  had  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  the  men  who  would  refuse  to  die  for  a con 
viction,  or  to  imperil  life,  home,  family,  and  fortunes  for 
an  ideal.  The  stay-at-home  Southerner,  the  Copper- 
head, and  the  Yankee  who  refused  to  fight  for  his  Un- 
ion, in  which  he  vociferously  professed  belief,  were  syn- 
onymous in  Shelby’s  mind  with  cowardice. 

Once,  on  the  first  raid  into  Missouri,  a boyhood 
friend  of  Shelby  in  Kentucky,  now  a captaip  in  the  Fed- 
eral Army,  was  met  at  the  head  of  his  com]»any  and 
given  an  opportunity  to  defend  himself,  but,  being  su- 
premely discreet,  he  refused  to  show  fight  and  galloped 
away.  Shelby  watched  the  dust  rising  in  the  distanc(^ 
and  with  a countenance  full  of  disgust  and  in  a voice  in 
which  rage  mingled  with  surprise  he  cried:  “My  God! 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


369 


is  that  yonder  a Kentuckian,  a Southerner,  refusing  to 
light  for  Avhat  he  says  is  right?” 

No  man  cherished  beliefs  more  than  Shelby;  no  man 
loved  a principle  more  devotedly,  and  no  man  would 
sacritice  his  life  quicker  than  Shelby  if  conviction  or 
duty  called. 

General  Shelby  was  the  youngest  general  in  the 
Trans-Mississippi  Department  of  the  Confederate  Army, 
and  was  not  given  charge  of  the  expedition  of  18b4.  be- 
cause it  was  thought  that  it  would  be  improper  to  put 
so  young  an  officer  over  other  ranking  officers.  Sterling 
Price  was  therefore  placed  in  charge.  With  the  expe- 
dition were  James  F.  Fagan  with  live  luigades  and  a 
battery  of  artillery  and  Gen.  Shelby  with  three  brigades 
and  a battery  and  Marmaduke’s  cavalry.  On  the  march 
from  the  South  through  the  State  of  Missouri,  Marma- 
duke  held  the  right,  nearest  the  Mississippi  River; 
Shelby  held  the  left,  with  Fagan  in  the  center,  guarding 
an  enormous  train  of  500  wagons,  and  thousands  of 
cattle.  . 

This  caravan  moved  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  milts  a 
day,  although  Price’s  officers  insisted  that  this  was  too 
slow  to  insure  safety  and  success. 

The  advance  was  made  through  southeastern  Mis- 
souri, until  Price  reached  a point  of  indecision.  He 
was  uncertain  whether  he  should  go  on  and  attempt  to 
occupy  St.  Louis,  then  cross  the  river  into  Illinois  and 
the  States  of  the  Ohio  valley,  as  dashing  Magruder  and 


370 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI  AES. 


fearless  Shelby  proposed  be  done,  or  to  march  into  Kan- 
sas. The  slowness  of  his  army’s  movements  and  other 
considerations  induced  him  to  choose  the  latter  plan.  A 
march  across  Missouri  ensued,  with  engagements  at 
various  points  along  the  march.  A force  of  Kansas 
troops  led  by  James  H.-  Lane  was  met  at  Lexington 
and  repulsed. 

A force  of  Federal  soldiers  was  forming  in  front  of 
Price’s  expedition,  while  General  William  S.  Rosecrans 
was  pursuing  from  St.  Louis,  supported  by  General 
Alfred  ITeasonton,  in  command  of  a large  force  of  cav- 
alry. A Fedei-al  force* under  General  Ford  was  met  at 
the  Little  Blue,  and,  after  a hard  fight,  was  driven 
through  Independence,  while  Price  with  his  men  moved 
on  to  Westport. 

The  23d  of  October,  18G4,  the  day  of  the  battle  of 
A'estjmrt,  dawned  clear,  cold,  and  full  of  promise  to  the 
Confederate  host.  Shelby’s  division  moved  against  the 
enemy  about  8 o’clock,  in  the  direction  of  Westijort,  ami 
very  soon  became  fiercely  engaged  all  around.  Shelby's 
men  were  the  first  on  the  field  and  the  last  to  leave  it. 
They  fell  against  the  Federal  positions  gained  the  day 
before  and  drove  the  enemy  back  in  sight  of  the  tow)i 
of  Westport.  At  12  o’clock  came  the  report  to  Shelby 
that  Marmaduke  had  fallen  back  before  the  Federal 
fire,  thus  exposing  Shelby’s  whole  flank  and  rear.  Gen. 
Fagan  sent  word  that  he  was  nearly  overpowered  by  the 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


371 


Federals,  wlio  filled  the  prairie  to  his  front.  Jackman’s 
brigade  went  to  his  relief. 

Heroic  elforts  made  by  Jackman  upon  the  open 
prairie  were  practically  fruitless.  He  was  compelled 
to  fall  back  before  the  Federal  fire.  Shelby  was  thus 
placed  in  a perilous  condition,  so  he  withdrew  a part  of 
his  men  from  the  town  of  Westport  and  attempted  to 
fall  back  and  reach  the  retreating  army  of  Price.  The 
prairie  in  his  rear  was  at  once  covered  with  a long  line 
of  troops,  which  Shelby  at  first  supposed  to  be  his  own 
men.  Upon  the  dis]ielliug  of  this  illusion,  the  prospect 
seemed  dark  and  desperate. 

XeiUnu-  tree  nor  bush  was  lo  be  seen  for  miles  and 
no  hel])ing  army  was  to  be  seen  anywhere.  Shelby  as 
sumed  Ihe  only  salvation  was  to  charge  the  nearest 
line,  break  it  if  possible,  and  then  retreat  rapidly,  fight- 
ing the  other.  The  order  was  given.  A short  while 
l>assed  and  breaks  in  Shelby’s  line  caused  confusion,  his 
men  starting  to  run  for  life.  The  Federals  ]mshed  for- 
ward in  pursuit,  while  Shelby’s  men  would  turn  and 
fight  hand  to  hand  and  then  gallop  atvay.  A string  of 
stone  fences  was  observed  in  the  distance  two  miles  off 
and  the  retreating  men  dashed  for  it.  They  reached  it 
and  were  rallied  here  for  a stand  until  death,  fighting- 
like  lions  at  bay.  The  fences  became  lines  of  fire  and 
the  bullets  sputtered  and  rained  thicker  on  the  charg- 
ing enemy.  They  halted,  faced  about,  and  withdrew  out 


372 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


of  range,  while  Shelby,  with  his  saved  command,  moved 
rapidly  after  the  main  army,  traveling  all  night. 

Price’s  last  expedition  was  thus  a failure,  but  not 
because  of  Shelby’s  fault.  General  Price  had  wit- 
nessed the  intrepid  spirit  of  Shell)3'’s  command,  and  in 
the  last  throes  of  military  distress  he  called  to  Shelby 
to  take  command  of  the  rear  guard  of  his  retreating 
army,  “for  you  alone  can  save  it.” 

The  salvation  was  accomplished  by  Shelby.  He 
fought  the  way  back  to  Newtonia,  Mo.,  where  was 
waged  the  last  battle  of  the  Civil  War  occurring  west 
of  the  Mississippi.  Here  the  Price  army  halted  to  rest 
and  forage.  Dangers  abounded  everywhere  and  Price 
grew  averse  to  remaining  there.  Shelby  urged  a rest, 
promising  with  characteristic  bravery  to  see  to  it  that 
the  enemy  would  be  successfully  withstood.  Though 
the  commanders  were  opposed  to  remaining,  a halt  was 
made  until  the  enemy  was  announced  approaching. 
They  then  opposed  battle,  but  Shelby  insisted  and 
dashed  into  an  engagement,  covering  himself  all  over 
with  glory.  Other  officers  pleaded  in  extenuation  that 
the  army  was  demoralized.  Shelby  said  “No,”  and  pro- 
ceeded to  n)arch  on  foot  to  meet  Blunt.  Said  he  to  his 
men:  “I  will  carry  you  so  far  from  your  horses  that  in 

your  efforts  to  reach  them,  if  you  are  defeated,  you  will 
be  killed  or  captured.  We  are  able  to  whip  Blunt,  the 
safety  of  the  entire  army  depends  upon  it,  and  by  the 
grace  of  God  it  shall  be  done!” 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


373 


And  done  it  was ! Shelby’s  men. fought  like  demons ; 
their  loss  was  heavy  and  their  ammunition  almost  ex- 
hausted before  the  battle  was  over,  but  charge  after 
charge  drove  Blunt  back,  defeated.  Shelby’s  last  bat- 
tle was  a victory  which  enabled  a starving  army  to 
proceed  in  comparative  safety  to  Texas. 

The  suffering  of  the  army  was  great,  and.  as  one 
soldier  has  since  put  it,  “hard  riding  and  hard  lighting 
made  a hard  appetite,  and  they  were  no  respecters  <)f 
other  people’s  pigs  and  poultry.”  One  day  Shelby  Avas 
standing  on  the  White  EAer,  watering  his  horse.  .\ 
gallant  private  was  similarly  engaged  in  a group  of 
soldiers  just  bel'oAv  Shelby,  Avhile  slung  across  his  sad- 
dle Avas  a sack  carefully  tied  and  bleeding  at  one  end. 
“What  you  got  there?”  Shelby  demanded  of  him. 
“Been  havin’  my  clothes  washed,”  ansAvered  the 
private  with  a grin. 

“You'd  better  get  back  to  camp.”  said  Shelby,  “or 
your  clothes  will  bleed  to  death.” 

The  private  was  put  into  the  guard-house,  but.  when 
that  night,  a quarter  of  fresh  pork  was  found  in  the 
General’s  tent,  Shelby,  with  a sense  of  humor,  and  after- 
eyeing  the  pork  hungrily,  said : “I  have  no  idea  where 

this  came  from,  but  go  ’round  to  the  guard-house, 
orderly,  and  tell  'em  to  turn  Gentry  loose.  There 's  no 
use  in  shutting  a man  up  for  life  for  a little  laundry.” 
General  Price  took  up  his  headquarters  at  Clarks- 
ville. Texas,  where  he  was  stationed  at  the  close  of  the 
war.  It  was  here  that  the  news  of  the  surrender  of  Lee 


374 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOU RIAFS. 


was  lieard  and  that  tidings  of  tlie  assassination  of 
Lincoln  reached  Shelby. 

An  incident  connected  with  the  receipt  of  this  latter 
news  clearly  illustrates  Shelby’s  respect  for  an  honor- 
able foe.  The  men  were  on  review'  w'hen  the  courier 
ap])roachcd,  bearing  the  new'S  of  Booth’s  fatal  shol. 
The  knowdedge  flashed  dow'ii  the  line  and  some  of  the 
men  thoughtlessly  cheered.  Their  commander  straight- 
ened himself  in  his  saddle,  bared  his  head,  and  rais(‘d 
one  hand  depiecatingiy,  saying  reverently:  “Boys,” — 
(he  line  sto]>pcd  to  listen, — “(Ids  is  the  lieaAdest  blow 
y(‘t  dealt  ns.  Ijincoln’s  slaughter  w'as  (he  act  of  a mad 
man.  If  he  had  lived,  he  wonld  hate  been  jnst  and 
genei'ons  to  the  South.” 

The  army  stood  silent  for  an  instant,  struck  wdth  the 
sight  of  the  grim,  deternnned  t’onfedei'ate  commander, 
siauding  with  bared  head,  speaking  kind  w'oids  of 
Abraham  Lincoln,  the  ]>ersonificatiou  of  (he  princi]d  ■ 
(hey  had  o])]H)sed  in  scores  of  bloody  battle-fields. 

General  Kiiby  Smith,  in  command  of  the  Trans- 
Id  ississi]i])i  1 )e])artment,  was  anxious  to  surrender,  near 
the  clos('  of  th("  war,  eai  ly  in  the  s])ring  of  I8O.0,  bur 
Shelby  was  e<iually  anxious  for  continued  resistance. 
lb‘  thougld  that  the  French  would  I'ecognize  the  Con- 
federacy  in  a fiwv  months  and  relief  would  be  had  from 
that  (piarter,  but  Smith  and  his  successoi-.  Buckner, 
ignored  the  ])rotest  and  the  surrender  was  later  made 
.by  Buckner  al  Shreve]K)r(  and  the  army  declared 
disbanded. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


EXPEDITION  TO  MEXICO.— ROMANTIC  ENDING 
OF  SHELBY’S  MILITARY  CAREER.— 
PERSONAL  CHARACTER- 
ISTICS. 

Conditions  in  Mexico  now  began  to  attract  tlie  at- 
tention of  the  men  wlio  had  fallen  with  the  Southern 
Confederacy,  and  Shelby  and  his  brigade  were  not  ex- 
ceptions to  the  rule.  His  army  stood  by  him  like 
brothers,  though  it  forced  them  to  stand  in  the  shoes  of 
exiles  and  political  ontcasts.  When  Buckner's  sur- 
render brought  about  the  disbanding  of  the  Trans-Mis- 
sissippi Department,  Shelby’s  men  were  well  equii)ped, 
armed,  mounted,  and  vigorous,  many  of  them  refusing 
to  believe  that  they  could  not  even  yet  conquer  the 
hated  Northern  troops  and  witness  the  triumph  of  their 
cherished  cause. 

The  gallant  leader  of  the  Shelby  brigade  now  took 
occasion  to  inq)ress  upon  the  men  the  utter  uselessness 
of  further  contending  against  the  Fnion,  because,  he 
urged,  the  generals  of  the  South  had  laid  down  their 
arms  and  Shelby’s  men  were  now  without  recognition 
as  soldiers  in  an  organized  army.  Shelby  then  advised 
his  men  to  follow  him  in  an  expedition  to  Mexico,  Avhere 
they  would  cast  their  fortunes  Avith  Maximilian  or 


376 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


Juarez,  tlien  striving  for  mastery  across  the  border, 
and  rise  as  soldiers  of  fortune  and  brave  men  should  in 
war.  About  a thousand  of  his  command  fell  in  with 
their  general’s  plans  and  concluded  to  follow  him  into 
IMexico.  The  remainder  of  the  courageous  baud  parted 
with  their  companions  of  four  years  of  bloody  strife, 
hai'dsliijis,  and  adversity  to  return  to  their  homes,  in 
instances  devastated  by  the  cruel  fortunes  of  war. 

.\n  election  was  held  at  Corsicana,  Texas,  and  Shel- 
by received  the  vote  of  every  man  in  the  army  for  com 
mander.  The  column  marched  down  through  Texas, 
crossing  into  Mexico  at  Eagle  Pass,  halting  at  Piedras 
Negras,  on  the  Mexican  side.  Here  Governor  Biesca,  a 
Juarez  leader,  came  forward  and  ottered  General  Shel- 
by full  and  unlimited  command  of  the  Liberal  armies 
of  the  States  of  Nuevo  Leon  and  Ooahuila.  Before  giv- 
ing the  Juarez  leader  a deliuite  answer.  General  Shelby 
consulted  the  wishes  of  the  officers  of  his  army,  but 
found  that  the  majority  were  Imperialists  or  sympa- 
thizers  with  Maximilian  and  were  opposed  to  fighting 
for  Juarez  or  the  Republic.  Though  personally  in 
sympathy  with  the  Republic,  Shelby  abided  by  the 
wishes  of  his  men,  and  declined  the  otter.  The  men 
who  thus  lost  an  opportunity  to  win  honor  in  what 
proved  a winning  cause  lived  to  see  the  day  when  they 
wished  that  Shelby  had  acted  less  in  deference  to  their 
wishes  and  more  in  kee])iug  with  his  own  desires. 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


377 


Before  preparations  were  made  to  march  southward 
through  Mexico  the  little  band  of  exiles  gathered  along 
the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande  on  the  morning  of  July  i, 
1865,  and  in  a picturesque  spot  bowed  their  heads  and 
with  tearful  eyes  and  trembling  hands  laid  away  in 
the  flowing  water  the  flag  they  had  borne  for  over  foui- 
years  all  through  the  West  and  Southwest. 

Perhaps  no  scene  in  American  history  or  any  con- 
nected with  the  annals  of  the  race  which  populates 
America  is  so  pathetic  and  tinged  with  romance  so 
much  as  this,  when  a band  of  heroes,  the  like  of  whom 
have  seldom  ever  been  known,  laid  away  a priceless 
trophy  of  their  heroism  and  buried  in  a river’s  shifting 
sands  the  battle-scarred  banner  of  a brigade  which 
should  ever  remain  famous  in  the  annals  of  the  border- 
land, upon  whose  vicissitudes  the  destiny  of  a nation 
veered. 

From  this  time  on,  Shelby’s  Mexican  expedition, 
linked  with  Maximilian,  rose  and  prospered  in  a patron- 
ized colony,  as  Maximilian’s  cause  was  favored,  then 
fell  and  failed  with  the  ill-starred  Austrian,  whose 
meteoric  appearance  in  the  politics  of  the  New  World 
will  always  arouse  attention  from  the  student  of 
history. 

Shelby’s  advancing  column  was  soon  at  the  City  of 
^lexico,  and  one  night,  in  company  with  Maury  and  Ma- 
gruder,  he  waited  on  the  young  Emperor  and  in  blunt, 
plain  fashion  proffered  his  services  to  the  Empire. 


378 


FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


There  was  no  compliance  with  court  etiquette  in  the 
grim  cavalry  commander’s  manner  as  he  held  his  old 
brown  hat  in  his  hand  without  any  deference  to  the 
kingly  presence,  making  Maximilian  an  offer  which,  if 
accepted,  would  undoubtedly  have  changed  the  drift  of 
history  both  iu  the  Old  World  and  in  the  New.  He  told 
Maximiliau  tliat  France’s  armies  would  soon  be  with- 
drawn and  that  he  must  have  American  troops  if  he  ex- 
pected to  survive.  Maximiliau  treated  Shelby  politely, 
but,  as  the  chivalrous  and  eutliusiastic  Southerner  him- 
self told  the  Emperor’s  interpreter,  Maximilian  laid 
faith,  but  no  enthusiasm.  “Why,”  said  Shelby,  “not 
once  could  1 bring  blood  to  his  face.”  The  Emperor 
bowed  Shelby  out  with  a substantial  declination  of  the 
American’s  offer  to  recruit  40,000  Coufedei'ate  soldiers 
to  establish  the  Empire  firmly. 

Not  disheartened,  but  declaring  that  he  had  ex- 
pected it,  Shelby  went  back  to  his  imperialistic  officers 
and  told  them,  in  laconic  sentences:  ‘AVe  are  not 

wanted.  I see  that  you  are  disappointed.  I know 
why.  You  have  dreamed  that  France  and  the  United 
States  might  come  to  blows.  Bah!  The  day  for  that 
has  long  gone  by.  Louis  Napoleon  has  slept  too  long.” 

The  jdans  of  the  men  were  thus  changed.  There 
was  no  o]»portuuity  presented  for  military  glory,  and 
iheir  faces  must  be  turi}ed  elsewhere.  At  length,  the 
Emperor  looked  after  their  welfare  and  gave  them  val 
liable  grants  of  laud  iu  a feilile  province,  where  a 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


379 


colony  was  established,  named  Oarlotta,  after  the 
Empress. 

Nearly  two  years  were  spent  in  changing  fortunes  in 
the  colony.  The  members  of  the  band  which  had 
crossed  the  Eio  Grande  with  such  buoyant  hopes  and 
liigh  ambitions  gradually  scattered,  numbers,  of  them 
leaving  one  by  one  and  returning  to  the  United  States, 
where  they  scattered  in  the  various  sections  of  the 
country.  Others  remained  and  struggled  under  heavy 
burdens  in  Maximilian’s  fading  realm  until  the  crisis 
came.  Just  before  the  French  troops  were  withdrawn 
from  the  Empire,  as  Shelby  warned  Maximilian,  Em- 
press Oarlotta  started  to  Paris  to  i,)lead  for  the  Latin 
Empire  before  a Bonaparte.  Before  her' departure  a 
band  of  guerrillas  attacked  her  train,  but  were  driven 
back  by  attendants.  Shelby’s  colonists  were  hastily 
called  together  and  taken  to  the  assistance  of  the 
French  at  Cesnola.  Days  and  nights  were  spent  in 
lighting  and  the  purpose  of  the  struggle  acconi})lished, 
ihe  siege  was  raised.  The  downfall  of  the  Empire 
was  delayed  for  a season,  largely  by  the  valor  of  Shel- 
by’s men. 

The  last  detachment  of  departing  French  troops 
sailed  in  March,  18G7,  and  the  Mexicans  began  to  close 
about  the  fallen  Emperor.  Maximilian  now  sent  for 
file  blunt,  brusque,  brave,  and  faithful  Confederate 
exile  and  asked  for  aid. 


380 


FIYE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


“How  many  Americans  are  there  in  the  country?" 
he  iminired. 

“Xot  a corporal's  guard  who  could  be  gotlen  to- 
gether,” Shelby  told  him  promptly. 

Maximilian  again  appealed,  “I  need  20,000  men.” 

“Pardon  me,”  said  Shelby,  “if  I speak  plainly.  Yon 
need  40,000  men.  Yon  cannot  count  upon  a single  regi- 
ment in  your  service.  There  is  desertion,  desertion — 
everywhere!  Why,  the  regiment  of  the  Empress,  tin' 
epaulets  of  whose  commander  the  Empress  made,  have 
deserted.  You  cannot  now  rely  upon  numbers — all  you 
can  look  to  now  is  devotion.  I am  but  one  man,  but  I 
am  at  your  service.'' 

Maximilian  lifted  his  head,  looked  at  the  plain- 
spoken  warrior  iidmiringly,  then  grasped  his  hands  in 
his,  with  tears  in  his  eyes  and  faltering  voice,  saying: 
“It  is  refreshing  to  listen  to  the  truth.  I feel  that 
you  told  it  to  me  as  one  who  neither  fears  nor  flatters. 
Accej)t  this  in  parting,  and  remember  that  circum- 
stances never  render  impossible  the  light  to  die  for  a 
princi{)le.” 

The  gift  was  the  golden  cross  of  the  Order  of  Guade 
lou])e  which  the  ruler  had  worn  upon  his  own  breast, 
and  which  Carlotta  had  kissed  and  blessed  before  her 
departure. 

With  5,000  men  the  Emperor  moved  to  the  north, 
evacuating  the  cai)ital  foi'  ever.  Queretaro  was 
reached.  It  was  at  once  besieged  by  the  advancing 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


381 


army  of  Juarists,  under  General  Escobedo.  Mexico^ 
Puebla,  and  Vera  Cruz  were  simultaneously  invested, 
and  the  Empire’s  fall  was  about  complete.  On  May 
15th  the  Emperor  was  captured,  later  tried  by  court- 
martial,  and  then  shot. 

Thus  went  out  the  Latin  Empire,  the  dream  of  Na- 
poleon III.,  who  thought  to  unite  the  Latin  races  in 
America  and  consummate  the  greatest  event  of  modern 
history. 

If  Shelby  had  been  permitted  to  recruit  the  army  he 
had  proposed  to  Maximilian,  the  latter’s  fate  would 
probably  have  been  different.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
continual  war  between  the  ITnited  States  and  France 
might  have  followed  and  an  uprising  in  the  South 
might  have  occurred,  the  outcome  of  which  would  have 
been  difficult  to  surmise. 

A word  from  Maximilian  to  Shelby  that  eventful 
night  at  Chapultei)ec  might  have  changed  the  current 
of  history. 

The  Civil  War  had  its  first  chapter  in  the  border 
strifes,  in  which  Shelby  became  prominent,  and  its  last 
chapter  in  Shelby’s  attempt  to  succor  Maximilian. 
Maximilian's  tragic  end  with  the  sad  breaking  up  of 
Carlotta  Colony  was  in  fact  the  close  of  the  War  of  the 
Rebellion. 

After  the  execution  of  Shelby’s  emperor-friend  and 
the  restoration  of  the  Eeimblic,  there  was  no  longer 
hope  in  the  straggling  members  of  the  Confederate  col- 


382 


. FIVE  FAMOUS  MISSOURIANS. 


ony  of  Carlotta.  They  therefore  abandoned  their  vari- 
ous occupations,  and  severally  and  in  little  groups  the 
exiled  followers  of  Shelby  returned  to  the  land  of  their 
nativity,  forever  to  dwell  in  peace  with  all  men  under 
the  Stars  and  Stripes.  Some  of  them  went  to  the  fai’ 
west,  settling  in  that  portion  of  the  country  which  had 
never  known  the  horrors  of  the  Civil  War  or  of  the 
hordei'  struggles;  others  went  to  various  places  in  the 
South;  while  Shelby  himself  returned  to  Missouri. 


After  the  downfall  of  the  Colony  of  Carlotta  and 
the  sul)se(juent  return  of  Shelby  to  Missouri,  he  set- 
lied  doAvn  to  peaceful  pui-snits  in  life  and  remained  in 
loyal  relations  Avilh  the  Union  to  the  day  of  his  deatli. 
He  settled  in  Uat('S  County  and  set  about  to  recuperate 
his  broken  fortunes.  He  Avas  for  years  the  idol  of  Wes;- 
ern  Coufedei-ates  and  ]u  ominent  in  the  councils  of  tlie 
veterans  of  the  Eehellion.  He  was  urged  frequently  Ip 
accept  polilical  honors  from  his  admirers,  hut  always 
refused  them.  At  one  time  he  had  the  Democratii- 
nomination  for  goA'ernor  of  Missouri  jiractically  Avithin 
his  grasp. 

In  18911  he  became  a candidate  for  United  States 
Marshal  and  received  the'  ap])ointment  fi  om  President 
CleA’eland.  As  an  officer  of  the  Federal  Government 
feAA'  men  Avere  so  strict  in  the  enforcement  of  the  law 
and  the  performance  of  official  duty.  He  was  fearless 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


383 


and  determined  in  his  official  acts.  The  last  illness  of 
his  life  was  occasioned  by  a sacrifice  in  the  interests  of 
his  official  work.  He  made  a trip  to  southern  Mis- 
souri in  the  winter  of  1896-7  in  the  pursuit  of  his  duties 
as  a Government  officer,  and  on  this  trip  contracted  a 
cold  that  resulted  in  his  death,  which  occurred  in 
February,  1897.  He  was  buried  in  Forest  Hill  Cem- 
etery, Kansas  City,  Mo. 


OUR  SHELBY.* 

BY  MRS.  T.  J.  HENRY. 

A Star  from  out  our  firmament  of  adoration 

Went  down  too  soon — its  radiance  at  its  height-— 

Amid  the  grand,  resplendent  honor  of  a nation, 

Entrammelled,  yet  untarnished,  in  her  sorrowing  night. 

Within  the  azure  vault  of  heaven’s  own  great  painting 
Bright  lights  grow  dim,  and  fade  from  mortal  eye; 

While  others  fixed;  each  round  its  orbit  never  feinting. 

Till  earth  is  merged  into  eternity. 

♦This  poem  was  written  after  General  Shelby’s  death,  and 
read  over  his  grave  in  Forest  Hill  Cemetery,  by  the  author, 
prompted  by  the  following  incident; 

When  General  Shelby  left  for  Richmond  to  attend  the 
meeting  of  the  United  Confederate  Veterans  for  the  last  time, 
he  expressed  a doubt  to  Mrs.  Henry  whether  he  would  ever 
return,  and  a request  for  her  son  to  accompany  him  in  case 
of  accident.  She  said:  “You  are  despondent.  General;  you  will 
live  to  write  my  obituary  and  many  more.”  “Never,  madam, 
—25— 


384 


FIVE  FAilOOS  MISSOUFIAyS. 


Beleaguered  rays  still  glint,  to  lume  the  dark  horizon 
That  settles  down  upon  his  helpless  sleep; 

And  scintillations  oft  will,  come  and  help  to  liven 
Around  the  fragment  of  His  scattered  sheep. 

Too  soon!  Ah,  soon!!  The  dreaded  death  cloud  gathered 
o’er  us. 

In  vain  we  reach  to  touch  his  guiding  wand; 

In  memory  see  it  point,  and  always  press  before  us 
To  plant  our  flagstaff  tow’rd  the  mother  land. 

His  eagle  vision  flashed  athwart  this  vast  dominion, 

And  pierced  the  future  as  it  rose  and  fell; 

His  hovering  crest  was  ours — poor,  broken  pinion! 

Is  folded  up  too  soon — Farewell ! Farewell ! !^ 

A life  so  woven  in  with  war  and  peace  together; 

The  gallant  trophies  of  exalted  dreams 
Will  come  to  us  of  olden  times  in  roughest  weather. 

And  clear  some  dangers  from  these  sullen  streams. 

Though  threatening  onslaughts  now  menace  with  wild  in- 
flections. 

And  deep  imbroglios  rise  from  sea  to  sea. 

His  bulwark  stands  beside  in  hallow’d  recollection, 

Anfl  brings  some  transport  back  to  you  and  me. 

With  woof  and  warp  entangled,  came  this  great  hiatus. 

The  stoppage  of  the  shuttle  working  strong  in  death. 

On  life’s  platform  standing,  while  hopes  and  fears  await  us. 
But  the  rushing  engine ’s  throttled;  we  ’re  left, 

never,”  he  replied;  and  grasping  each  other’s  hand  to  say  good- 
bye, with  tears  in  his  eyes,  again  he  insisted,  “You  will  write 
mine.”  At  that  moment,  before  the  farewell  was  finished,  a 
stranger  called  him  into  his  office.  Mrs.  Henry  observed  that 
the  door  closed  after  him,  and  remarked  to  a gentleman  stand- 
ing near,  “I  fear  we  shall  never  see  the  General  again,”  which 
proved  to  be  true. 


JOSEPH  0.  SHELBY. 


385 


Distressed,  dismayed,  alas!  and  know  not  whither  trending, 
The  leader  gone;  the  hapless  flock  astray; 

Like  splintei’ed  reeds  aghast  in  consternation  bending; 

The  wind-break  taken,  nor  the  storm  at  bay. 

And  here  we  stand,  distraught  with  grief  and  desolation; 

The  night  upon  us,  and  no  star  to  see; 

All  tethered  down  by  age,  in  need  of  consolation 
That  oped  unstinted  to  his  boundless  lee. 

Wherein  the  old  ship  riding  safely,  with  top-sail  furled, 

I’ve  heard  the  hailing  of  his  seamen.  Come! 

Leaking!  Sinking!!  Foundered!!!  Back  the  welcome  echo 
hurled. 

Steady,  soldiei-s;  out  of  breakers;  here ’s  room! 

I ’ve  heard  the  wails  of  widows,  orphans,  wives — aye,  strangers. 

Struggling,  crowding  on  that  crippled  starboard; 

I ’ve  seen  the  friendly  handshake  dripping  out  of  dangers; 
Beggar,  courtier,  friend,  alike  were  harbored. 

Upon  this  fleld  with  watch-fires  quenched,  nor  colors  flying. 
We’ve  come  to  lay  him  by  his  own  in  sleep; 

The  hard-fought  battle  here,  the  val’rous  heroes  dying; 

A soldier’s  vigils  by  our  troths  we  ’ll  keep. 

Our  darlings  slain  in  youth’s  bright  manhood  here  to  cherish, 
Though  many  years  have  passed  in  bitter  grief; 

With  loving  6are,  each  cycling  season  come  to  nourish. 

The  trees,  the  flowers,  and  the  rip’ning  sheaf. 

These  luscious  perfumes  seem  so  freighted  down  with  sadness. 
To ’ve  caught  the  drifting  of  our  thoughts  to-day; 

The  cheery  little  songsters  have  suppressed  their  gladness. 
Their  whistlings  seem  like  music  far  away. 


386 


FITE  FAMOUS  MISSOURI  AES. 


Till  wave  ou  wave,  may ’ve  reached  to  distant  homesteads 
broken; 

Poor  mothers!  If  their  souls  had  arms,  would  be 
To-day  around  us  weeping,  with  a loving  token 
More  plaintive  far  than  this  weird  minstrelsy. 

Forget  not,  oh!  the  widow,  ’reft  and  broken-hearted; 

For  sunny  days  can  come  to  her  no  more, 

The  blighting  traces  of  this  aching  wound  have  smarted. 

Till  life-blood  trickles  from  the  anguished  sore. 

Let  vandal  tongues  deride  and  scoff  our  soul’s  lost  treasure; 

The  scum  on  swelling  tides  must  come  and  go; 

But  dreams  and  joys,  crushed  hopes  in  retrospective  measure,. 
Grow  stronger,  purer,  as  they  ebb  and  flow. 

Somewhere  in  mystic  future,  armies,  friends  once  plighted. 

Will  rise  together  on  those  happier  planes. 

And  there,  in  glorious  judgment,  wrongs  will  be  righted; 

For  God  Almighty  still  supremely  reigns. 


THE  END. 


